Wasn't Born an Angel
by Aireabella
Summary: Beth was stolen from him. Daryl couldn't save her then. In a broken world where you only have what you can protect, can Daryl find what was taken from him? Is he strong enough to save Beth, and in doing so, save the person she helped him become? This story will follow the lives of Daryl Dixon and Beth Greene following the escape from Terminus.
1. Chapter 1: Chained and Marked

~Authors note: Welcome to my new Daryl and Beth fan fiction. Just to set things up, this story will follow Daryl and Beth after the season 4 finale. I started this story a while ago because I wanted to get a few chapters written before I decided whether or not I wanted to post it. I am still not entirely sure it is going to be good enough to share, but I guess we'll see how it works out. It isn't going to be connected to anything that was shown in the Walking Dead season 5 trailer shown at ComicCon from July 26 since this story was started before that trailer was released. It will, however, take into account all the things that have been established between Daryl and Beth in previous seasons. This story is going to have a dark tone for a while. I don't think there will be anything fluffy for quiet some time. I guess I should give a few warnings. This story will initially contain some fictional religious ideology developed in an apocalypse. It is in no way, shape, or form a criticism of religion but rather a fictional representation of how religion can be corrupted in broken societies. This story is of course based off the Walking Dead (of which I own or claim to own nothing), so there will be violence between people and people in addition to people and walkers. The occasional rabbit, squirrel, or other fuzzy woodland creature may also fall victim to Daryl's crossbow, but that has yet to be written.

This fiction will initially be focused mainly on Daryl. The first chapter is a Beth chapter, but it is just to establish her situation. I try to keep Daryl and Beth within the bounds of what I think is realistic for their characters, but of course, this is subjective to each individual person and reader.

I want to thank anybody who decides to read this work! Reviews are appreciated. Also, I have another Daryl and Beth fiction on this site, "I Will Follow You Into the Dark", which anyone is welcome to read if you haven't already come across it. It is pretty established at this point, being on chapter 38. I normally update my other fiction once a week, and I plan to do the same with this one. I will probably post the second chapter in a few days just to get the storyline established, but after that, it will likely be on a weekly basis.~

* * *

Her head was pounding so hard that her eyes were pulsating, threatening to explode. Her entire body ached...she could barely breathe, but she was moving...Beth felt like she was floating.

Not floating...she was being carried...

"Daryl?" She barely heard her own voice come out of her mouth. It didn't sound like his name at all.

Had they made it?

"Shhh...

It wasn't him...

* * *

The world was spinning, her head was still pounding the rhythm of a death march, and now she was queasy. Beth kept her eyes closed tight, took in a deep breath, trying to keep the nausea at bay...but she gagged anyway. There was nothing to come up even though it felt like her stomach was threatening to be expelled by the force...her sides were wracked with pain. Even breathing was excruciating, like a knife being plunged in her sides.

Beth tried breathing more shallowly. It was difficult, the choice between nausea and pain.

_Moonshine_.

Her stomach turned just at the thought. She would never touch another drop of alcohol again...

But that wasn't it...there had been something after the moonshine. _Daryl_. A lot after the moonshine!

_Beth! Beth! Run!_

Beth sat up quickly, but it was a bad idea on all accounts. The beat in her head intensified, her sides were on fire, the dizziness almost overtook her, and...her hand was caught? She opened her eyes in spite of everything she was suffering. The room was sparse, poorly lit, but it was enough to make out her situation. Her left hand was handcuffed to the black iron bars of the headboard.

"No..."

She didn't know why she said it. There was no one there to hear her. Beth started to cry for help, but as her senses began to return and were enough to override her pain and nausea, she quickly realized that there was no one near to help her. Whoever would come to her cries would likely be the person who chained her in the fist place. She feebly pulled at the cuffs, trying to break free, to pull her hand out, but the only thing she accomplished was the clash of metal against metal that rang around the room and bounced around in her head like loose BBs. She stopped, clenching her eyes tighter, rubbing her forehead with her free hand. Her thoughts were a mess, all scrambled and incoherent. Then one horrific idea fully formed itself...Merle and his story about how he was forced to saw off his own hand to save himself on the rooftop in Atlanta.

"No!"

This time, Beth knew why she cried out...she couldn't imagine making that horrible decision, facing that terrible fate...but hers could be worse. She was trapped like an animal with absolutely no means to free herself.

Beth pulled and fought and jerked in earnest this time, blood seeping from the self-inflicted wound on her wrist where the cuff cut into her flesh. She was startled when the door opened and lamp light flooded the room. The light hurt her eyes, and she shrank back against the headboard as far away from the approaching figure as possible. She had no defenses...she couldn't even run...she was at the mercy of God and the person coming towards her.

"Shhh child, calm yourself..." The man's voice was quiet and non-threatening, but he was still her captor.

Beth couldn't make out his face; the glare of the oil lamp before him...her eyes were too sensitive...her head was pounding too hard...

"You've been hurt. You might have a concussion, and I'm pretty certain you have broken ribs..." The voice continued.

That made sense, what she was feeling. How was a different question. She wanted to ask about Daryl, but something deep inside warned her against it, stopped her. Until she understood what was happening, figured everything or anything out, she needed to keep quiet.

"By what name does the Lord Our God know you?"

His words sent shivers down her spine. A man of God, a preacher or priest, she would have trusted, and what other kind of person would have spoken in such a way? The real question was, what kind of preacher or priest handcuffed people to their beds?

"Beth. God knows me as Beth." Her words were careful and measured. She would say what he wanted to hear because she wanted to stay alive.

* * *

Five nights. Had in it been five nights? No, six...at least six...six she was aware of. The first night...the night she'd lost Daryl, she'd been given food and water, some painkillers...when he'd uncuffed her and let her to sleep, she'd allowed herself to believe that she wasn't in danger. Beth cried for Daryl. She cried herself to sleep knowing that there was no way he'd made it out of the house alive. And the car had struck her, sending her into a dark abyss. She would've went back for Daryl, chosen to die if he was dead, but that choice had been taken from her. The first night, her pain and her tears had driven her to sleep, leaving her to pick up the broken pieces of her life the next morning.

But that option never came. She was woken abruptly by the person she came to know as Brother Allerton who presented her with a pink Sunday dress and a basin of water to clean herself. It wasn't morning...late afternoon by the light coming through the one window in the room.

"Come now child, dress yourself. The congregation is waiting to meet you." His tone was soft, calm; it fit the lanky man, a man of Rick's age, who stood before her.

"Why do they want to meet me? " Not much was making sense after her tragic loss of Daryl...she...it was too late now to even consider those feelings. Daryl was gone.

"They want to meet my gift from God, the angel who will be my wife." The smile on his face left her frightened.

Beth stood up quickly...too quickly, doubled over as pain seared up her sides.

"No..." Beth protested weakly after she was able to right herself.

She hit the floor before she even realized he'd drawn back his arm to backhand her. Her hand went up to cup her cheek as Beth looked up and him in disbelief.

"You will respect me as you respect your God! You will love me as you love your God! You will obey me as you obey your God! I am as God to you!" His quick transition from kind to psychotic showed he was no man of God, and Beth would use what little spirit and strength she had left to deny him.

"You are not God!" She screamed.

After that, Beth learned to embrace the pain. It was all she had left.

From that point on, everything came at her in waves, waves of pain, waves of incoherence that followed every time she felt the needle prick her skin and the drugs flood her system, lucid moments when she prayed for God to save her...all the people...the congregation...she had cried out to them for help. While a few stirred and whispered quietly to each other sitting in their pews, for whatever reason, they wouldn't move to help her. The rest of them bought into Brother Allerton's madness and ignored her pleas for help.

Beth's arms ached. The nightly religious pageant was over. She was stripped to her underwear, no shame left, she just couldn't care. The same thing happened every night. Brother Allerton dragged her back to her cell, attached her bound hands to the chain that dangled from the ceiling, her arms bearing almost all of her weight, her feet barely allowed to touch the ground. The sedatives had worn off enough that she felt everything...just like every other night...and it began.

"As the Lord Our God created Eve for the comfort and companionship of Adam, so too has he released you from the heavens to be my bride amidst our dark world. Will you cometh to me this night as a bride cometh to the bridegroom?" He spoke with such conviction and fervor in his voice that he must have actually believed his own delusions.

It was a small miracle that Brother Allerton didn't believe in rape. Beth had been spared that at least, but it didn't really matter anymore. She was dead already.

"I'm not your wife."

Beth's words no longer held the passion they had the first time she'd said them, but she said them all the same, knowing what was coming next.

He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him, the anger spread across his face. Did he actually expect a different answer?

"Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands, as you do in the sight of the Lord Our God!" He screamed, just inches from her face.

She didn't flinch. She didn't look away. Beth might have no control over how he decided to kill her...how she died...but she could decide how she lived.

"I am as God to you!" He continued with his madness.

"You are not God!"

He'd forgone hitting her in the face several days ago, why she couldn't say. He struck her side instead, sharp pain engulfing her, the injuries she suffered made worse by his brutality, but she didn't cry out...she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Beth embraced the pain...it was all she had left...

He deviated from his ritual.

"Has another man soiled you, sweet angel? I would hear his name upon your lips," Brother Allerton's voice was composed and even again, but she knew he was just a bomb waiting to explode.

Beth didn't answer.

"What was his name? The one who ruined you?"

She wouldn't grace him with Daryl's name, but she would speak of him.

"He didn't ruin me. He saved me...protected me. I loved him and would've gone to him willingly," Beth said softly, closing her eyes to see his face, comforting herself in the truth of her words and the sweet memories of Daryl.

The next blow was unexpected, and she cried out despite her resolve. He didn't speak. He moved behind her, pulling out the blade and drawing it across the right side of her back. The now familiar sting signified that his ritual was over.

"One cut for each night you deny your place beside me. You will remember."

He left, as he always did, with no further words. Beth was alone in the dark, the ache in her body from being suspended not nearly as painful as the ache in her heart. As she felt the blood from the cut drip down her back, she let out a shuddering breath as she prepared to spend the night alone with only her memories to keep the demons and darkness at bay.

Beth might have refused to say his name to her captor, but she could say it now for herself.

"Daryl."

Tomorrow, it would begin again. She prayed that when she felt the familiar prick of the needle delivering the drugs to her veins that somehow it would be too much and she would drift away into oblivion...


	2. Chapter 2: The Place In Between

Blood...there'd been so much blood. It didn't bother him, never had long as it wasn't pouring outta someone he cared about, someone he was supposed to protect. Daryl looked at his hands resting on his knees, his knuckles beat to bits, pieces of skin flaking off and dry blood cracking. He could still smell it, the blood he was covered in, some his, some from others, some from walkers...it was all the same...it's iron tinge filling his nose. Truth was...it didn't hurt...nothing did...he was physically numb. Daryl needed the pain...wished his knuckles stung, wished his body ached, something...anything to drown out what he was feeling. Something to take his mind off...

All he recalled of the last few days, a blur in the scope of his life, was being trapped, reuniting in the boxcar, escaping and the massacre, more reuniting, and stopping at this house to sleep. Daryl couldn't sleep though. He'd picked a spot at the dark end of the hallway, slid down with his back against the wall, and there he sat. Everyone else was together. Rick and his group plus the new paramilitary crew and so-called scientist out to save the world claimed the room to the right of his hall, and the other strangers who'd managed to escape with them from Terminus gathered in the room at his left.

And here he was in the darkness, hiding in the hallway between two worlds. Truth was, he didn't belong in either of 'em; the hallway was his personal state of limbo...his Purgatory. Judith cried from the next room.

_Small miracles._ "Pfft!"

Daryl was happy Judith survived. Lil' Asskicker was living up to her name. Rick and Carl deserved that. It was just that, with all the impossible reunions, everyone coming back together and surviving, God or whoever in the universe moved the fucking chess pieces that were their lives couldn't throw him a bone, couldn't give just one more unlikely reunion? What did he expect? This was his life after all, and fate liked to fuck him on the regular. He looked over at his crossbow. Beth's backpack sitting beside it contained all the crap she'd picked up and decided to drag along with them before she'd been kidnapped. He'd scooped it up from the road before beginning his impossible chase of the car that took her, before he actually noticed there was a car. Why he'd picked it up, he had absolutely no idea. Not like it mattered.

Daryl heard people talking, their words floating in from both sides of the hallway, but they were muffled...he didn't understand...couldn't comprehend them. He was glad they were stayin' away from him. They had plenty of shit to talk about, what happened at the prison, what happened while they were separated. He didn't have nothin' to say...didn't wanna talk about it. The only one who had any idea was Rick.

_I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for a while..._

_Is she dead? _

_ She's just gone..._

His chest tightened as emotion welled up inside him. So many things happened in that time, an entire lifetime between _I was with Beth_ and _She's just gone_.

Rick, his brother.

_ It's not on you, Daryl...hey...It's not on you. You being back with us here, now, that's everything. You're my brother._

That meant something, maybe everything now.

It was probably good that nobody tried to talk to him...tried to draw any information outta him or call him on not feelin' anything! He was feelin' plenty, and he was likely to explode if poked at like a cornered animal. And he knew if he was provoked, the episode wouldn't end in a hug with him cryin'. None of them were strong enough to fight back and bring that side of him out. Truth was, he didn't know how a stupid little girl could stand up to him and break him down to a bawlin' mess, being the strong one and hugging him through it.

That wasn't fair. She wasn't stupid, she'd proved that. And she wasn't a little girl either...he didn't see her that way, never had. There was only one reason she had that effect on him...

After a while, the talk started to die down. Did anyone even mention Beth...say her name? He'd been tuned out of the conversations from the other rooms, but Daryl was sure if her name was mentioned, he would've picked up on it. They weren't even talking about her...losing her...didn't she matter to them at all? It must be easier for them to forget, ignoring the truth rather than feeling and mourning the loss.

_Fuck 'em!_ Daryl wouldn't forget. He couldn't even if he wanted to, and he didn't. He would bear this cross, not just because it needed to be remembered but because if he didn't remember, it would be like sayin' that the stuff that happened before he lost Beth didn't. He couldn't let all those things go!

It was Rick who finally came to him, sliding down beside him, back against the wall.

_Welcome to my nightmare._

If it had been anyone else, Daryl wouldn't have had it. But it was Rick. Daryl was willing to die for his brother, spill his own blood if necessary, and Rick would do the same for him he knew. He had no reason to chase Rick away.

Rick didn't say anything, he just attempted to pass Daryl a plate of food.

"Nah, give it to one of the kids or women," Daryl found his voice, but it was rough and strained.

Rick insistently held out the plate to him.

"Everyone's eaten already. There's plenty. Take it. You're gonna need it." Rick's voice was pained. Why pained? He had his family back, his group. Empathy, Daryl realized. Something new in his world.

Daryl took it, the broken skin around his knuckles cracking fresh open as he gripped the edge of the plate. There it was...the pain...it was good. He looked down at the food idly before speaking.

"I'm going after her."

"I know." Rick didn't sound surprised. Why wasn't he surprised? Because he knew. "I'm going with you."

"No." Daryl was concrete. He wasn't gonna have someone else he cared about getting hurt or killed 'cause of his negligence. Not this time.

"It's not a negotiation," Rick asserted.

Rick was right. It wasn't a negotiation. Rick just didn't realize he was on the losing end of the non-negotiation yet.

"These people need you. You're their leader. They can do without me," Daryl tried reasoning. Better to convince than be abrasive. He was learning. "And you have Carl and Judith." Daryl had him there he knew.

"You're part of our group. You've been at the heart of it since the beginning whether you like to realize it or not. We need you," Rick fought his losing battle.

_Heart_...Daryl thought on that word for a moment.

"She needs me...I was the one who failed her..." Daryl broke off at the end. Copping to his weakness and failures had never been his strong suit...but this was worse than painful...worse than he could ever imagine.

Rick didn't have a reply. What could he say? He just looked down, helplessly contemplating the floor, working through whatever thoughts were running through his head. At least he knew Rick wasn't gonna try to stop him.

"Rick...I need to do this...on my own. I need to make it right...at least I have to try...because..."

"I know." Rick didn't make him sat it.

Daryl didn't know if Rick really knew what he was going to say...hell, he didn't really know what was gonna fly outta his mouth next...but he did know what was there; he just wasn't willing to share it.

"Do you even know where to start?" Maybe it was just an attempt at idle conversation. Rick was never really good at conversations, but then again, neither was he. What it was doing though was helping Daryl think things out.

"From the beginning." It was plain 'n simple. If you were gonna do a job, you needed to do it right. For a tracker, the truth was always the same...you always started from the beginning.

Rick nodded his head slowly in agreement. Rick was a cop, that much about tracking he knew, the universal truth...start at the beginning.

"Did you see anything? Do you know anything about who took her?" Maybe Rick was tryin' to help him out even though Daryl wouldn't let him come along.

"I just saw the car." The image would be burned in his mind forever. "Rick, do you believe in God?"

Daryl had no idea where that came from. Rick glanced sideways at him before answering.

"I haven't really ever thought on it much. I like to put my faith in things I know, things I can trust. Why?" Rick was confused. He had a right to be with the question Daryl just popped on him.

"The car...the one that took her...it had a white cross on the back window." Distinguishing marks...trackers and hunters always recognized and remembered distinguishing marks.

"You think it was a sign? You believe in God?" Rick asked, his interest peaked.

That was a complicated question...two questions he really didn't know how to answer truthfully.

"A sign, I don't know, but it was there." Daryl paused for a moment to contemplate on it. "About God...I wasn't raised on him or nothin', but I ain't ready to rule him out. I might believe he's there, but I sure in the hell know he ain't on my side." Now he was just feelin' sorry for himself, and that wasn't gonna do anybody any good.

Faith. Such an odd construct. Rick said he didn't really believe in God and chose to put his faith in things he knew and trusted. But that wasn't faith at all. Faith was believing in things you could never fully understand or know until they happened.

Beth had faith...blind faith...in the world, in God, in the future, and for some fucked up reason, she had faith in him. Her words came back to him. Daryl heard them so clearly that she could have been sitting right next to him.

_It wouldn't kill you to have a little faith._

Beth had faith...maybe he could have some too. Truth was, having a little faith might kill him, but if that was the way he went out, so be it.


	3. Chapter 3: Haunted

~Author's Note: Hey guys, here is chapter 3. It's a little dark...I hope not too much! Thanks for everyone who is reading, and I hope you enjoy!~

* * *

Daryl clenched his eyes tight as he became aware of the sun shining in on his face. The familiar sting caused by squinting with black eyes and the painful sensation the sun caused with the added sensitivity of the injury threw him into reality. The pain was strange though, not so acute and vivid...more removed, more of a distant ache. He couldn't really put his finger on it. He turned away from the sun, reaching up and gently rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. When he was finally able to open them, he reached out an let his hand brush across the soft white sheet covering the empty space on the other side of the bed. It was empty, very empty, but there were noises from the other room.

Daryl stopped, still and silent, in the hallway.

"Merle?" Was this right?

"Hey there baby brother! Finally decided to make an appearance...ain't much of an appearance though! You're a fucking mess!"

Merle was just as loud and obnoxious as ever. Daryl was keenly aware of his black eyes, and he glanced down at his hands, his knuckles a bloody, broken mess.

"Yeah, well, you should see the other guys," Daryl defended himself, but he shouldn't have to in his own house.

_My house?_

Daryl looked around, the clean white walls, the pretty curtains in the windows, the wild flowers in the pitcher on the sideboard, the intricate lace table cloth. He'd never had anything nice in his life. But he took a seat at the head of the table like it was his right, his habit.

"I hope so! Ain't no reason you should come out lookin' like this...a beaten, battered mess! I'd think nobody taught you how to fight, but we both know that ain't true!"

Merle was right. The one good thing Merle'd taught him was how to fight...how to win.

"There were a lot of 'em." Maybe he would never get out of the habit of feeling shitty about himself, having to explain himself and his failings to Merle. He'd never be good enough.

But he was, wasn't he?

_You got to stay who you are, not who you were._

Where was that from?

"Well, there better have been." Merle just had to have the last word.

Daryl watched as Merle's fork picked up a whole pancake dripping with syrup.

"You could use your knife," Daryl challenged, why he didn't know.

"Well look at you! All hoity-toity Mr. Manners now you got all these pretty things 'round you." Merle dropped his fork and the pancake, the fork clattering against the edge of the plate. "You forget the world's an ugly place?" Merle challenged.

"I ain't forgot nothin'!" Daryl wasn't gonna back down.

"Well maybe you forgot ol' Merle's only got one hand since your brother Rick left me handcuffed up on that roof like an animal." Merle was still bitter. He probably had a right to be.

"I looked for you."

"You didn't look hard enough. Luckily I was strong enough to make it on my own." Merle dismissed his bitterness quickly enough. He was right. Merle was strong enough to make it on his own, but not everyone was. "Well, if you want me to be all fancy Mr. Manners, either you're gonna have to cut my food for me, or better yet, get the lady of the house to feed me, mmm-hmmm..."

"That ain't never gonna happen!" Daryl snapped, standing in challenge. Merle'd crossed the line!

"Sit your ass down little brother. I ain't gonna touch what's yours." Merle cut at his food with his fork. At least he was making an effort. "Anyway, I like my women dangerous. Little Goldilocks is too sweet for me...sweet as sugar...probably just right for you. You always were the sweet one!"

_Beth._

Daryl could see a picture of her now...so clear and vivid. She was sitting at the piano, watching him layin' in the casket.

_Why don't you go ahead and play some more? Keep singing._

_ I thought my singing annoyed you?_

_ There ain't no jukebox, so..._

_ ...and we'll buy a beer to shotgun, we'll lay on the lawn and we'll be good now, I'm laughing at my boredom and my string of failed attempts..._

He'd watched her, contemplated her, couldn't take his eyes off her. It was all so vivid...yet it was surreal. It had to be a dream, right? It certainly couldn't be a memory from his fucked up life. But he could still hear her singing...

"Well, she doesn't look like she's got too much bedtime experience. Traditional is probably all she can handle, and that's all you got, baby brother! Sweet as sugar, my baby brother and his innocent little doll of a girl. Vanilla sex is all y'all are ready for!" Merle continued to shoot his mouth off.

Daryl should've called him on it, but he was drawn by more important thoughts. Things he still couldn't comprehend.

"Where's Beth?" It hurt to ask.

"She's just gone." The words came out of Merle's mouth, but they were his words.

"She's just gone," Daryl repeated.

"What in the hell are you doin' here Daryl?" Merle went totally serious on him, setting his fork aside and staring him down.

"We're just tryin' to stay alive..." It was the essential truth.

"We're or you're?" Merle questioned, and Daryl just didn't see the difference. "Hell, I can see you're tryin' to stay alive. You're surviving, but you sure ain't livin'!"

"I'm tryin'. I just ain't good enough. I wasn't good enough. I couldn't...I wanna live, but she's gone." Daryl could hear the desperation in his voice. "Surviving's all I got."

"So...you failed and you're just gonna sit around in your pretty little house feelin' sorry for yourself? Shit, do I need to come down there and give you a good kick in the balls to remind you you've still got 'em you mopey bastard!" Well, at least Merle was trying to motivate him!

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Get off your ass, be a fucking man, and go after your woman!" Merle shouted.

"She's not my woman..."

"Shit little brother...you never could lie to me, ain't gonna start now...I know the truth!"

"You don't know nothin'!" Daryl didn't know why he was fighting so hard...maybe if he accepted the truth, it would hurt more.

"I know everything. I'm dead and gone. I live up here, and so does the truth." Merle took his finger and tapped the side of his head three times, apparently to make sure he got his point across. "Don't try to lie to yourself. There ain't no reason to."

"She's gone. What if I can't find her?" Merle was dead; why was he even asking? Where would an answer even come from?

"You satisfied sittin' here, pondering on all your 'what ifs'...that make you feel like a man? Somebody stole her from you! You just gonna stand by and let that stand?"

"What if she's dead..." The thought felt like a bolt through his heart...the thing he feared the most...Beth dead.

"Pfft! She ain't dead. Weren't no walkers that kidnapped her. It was people. Pretty little young thing like that, so full of life, so many other things they could do with her before they kill her. And I promise you, they didn't steal her to take her to a fucking tea party!"

"Shut up Merle!" Merle's words hit him hard because he knew they were true.

"You're sittin' here, doing nothin' when you should be fighting to get back what's yours. If you love her, you should fight till you bleed out to get her back!"

"There's no one to fight, Merle! I don't know where she is!"

"How many times do you think they're gonna rape her? How many men are gonna take what you love before you even have a chance to be with her? Their gonna fuck her until she has no fight left, until the light leaves her eyes, until there's nothin' but a shell of who she used to be left. All because you're too afraid!"

"I ain't afraid of nothin'!" Daryl yelled. He was losing it. He wanted to beat Merle to a bloody pulp, but for some reason, he couldn't move.

"We all know that ain't true. You're afraid, maybe not of pain or dying, but you're afraid. Afraid of being alone, afraid of not being good enough, afraid of losing Beth." Daryl wasn't sure if the words were coming from Merle, if they were just in his head, or if both were the same thing...but they were true.

"What am I supposed to do?" Daryl felt defeated. He was defeated. And he was asking Merle for advice...

"You're supposed to get your ass out there and fight! Ain't nothin' worth havin' in life that you don't have to fight for, especially now. You fight just like I taught you all your life. You fight hard, you fight dirty, you fight ugly, but you fight! You get that girl, you kill anyone who hurt her, touched her, or even looked at her. You protect her with your life no matter what, and you never let her outta your sight again!"

"What if she doesn't want me?" God...how did that even come into the conversation? It had absolutely no bearing on Beth's situation or whether or not he should try to find her.

Merle raised his eyebrows at Daryl. He could see Merle's jaw clenching.

"Do I need to get my ass up and come down there to beat you bloody until you get some sense knocked back in that head of yours?" Merle was furious. How was it, in this moment, that Merle was the best part of him? "Are you actually tellin' me that she's not worth saving if she doesn't want you?"

"That's not what I meant...you're gettin' me all wrong Merle...jumping to conclusions like you always do!" Daryl defended himself, taking up his own case.

"I better be gettin' you wrong 'cause little Blondie deserves better than that!" Merle growled.

Was Merle actually defending someone else, someone he wasn't related to? But Merle was dead, so he must be defending Beth to himself...or was it all real? Daryl just needed some anchor in reality!

"I just mean...what if I get her back, and I'm not good enough?" It all boiled down to his biggest insecurity.

"You go out there, you fight for her, you bleed for her if you have to. You give Beth her life back, and you make her love you." Merle was at his side and put his hand on his shoulder. This was the best brotherly advice Merle had ever given him. "You're good enough. Always have been, you just didn't know it, and I never told you. The man you are now is even better."

Daryl was in the doorway of the bedroom. Beth was laying in a bed of blood...everything was dark. She wasn't moving. She was dead.

"She was mine..."

Daryl couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

Joe's voice was suddenly in his head...

_So I laid out some rules of the road to keep things from going Darwin every couple hours, keep our merry band together and stress-free. All you gotta do is claim. That's how you mark your territory, your prey, your bed at night. One word, claimed._

_ I ain't claiming nothing!_

Daryl regretted saying those words, even though Beth hadn't been there...there'd been nothin' to claim, nothing he wanted more than her. He'd refused to play their game, and now...this was his punishment.

He saw them then, Joe and Len, standing over Beth's body like two demons.

"She was mine..." Daryl's words barely came out.

"Sorry. You knew the rule. You didn't claim her," Joe stated as a matter of fact.

"I didn't have a chance..." It was coming...he was going to break.

"That's the little bitch had you all messed up in the head? I told you the little 'uns never lasted long." Len laughed. Daryl should've killed him in the woods. Didn't matter that Joe was there to stop him; he should've slit both their throats! But now, it was too late...but they were dead?! "Well, she sure was sweet though. I guess I can understand now."

_No...not Beth...she didn't deserve this..._

"Yep, a few of us, we claimed her, but you can claim what's left if you want it," Joe finished, laughing.

They were both gone when Daryl opened his eyes, just him and Beth...and she wasn't dead yet. She reached out to him, her arm quivering, falling quickly back to the bed in exertion. He went to her, pulled Beth into his lap, held her close. He could feel his tears burning down his cheeks.

"Beth...you're gonna be...okay..." He lied. She knew it. He knew it, but it was all he had. At least he could be with her, hold her so she wouldn't die alone. How was that the only thing he could give her?

Beth reached up and touched his face. He could feel the warm blood smeared on his cheek cooling quickly on his skin. Her blue eyes were grey now as the life started to fade from them.

"Last man standing..." Why did she have to say that? Was that going to be his curse...losing everyone he cared about...the one person he...

It was now or never.

"Beth, I love you!"

Her eyes lit up for a brief moment, sparkling, before they became heavy and closed one last time.

"No! No...no...no...no...Beth, no!"

Daryl shook her frantically, her tangled blonde hair wrapping around her serene face. She died knowing he loved her...but that wasn't enough! He'd failed her again. And Daryl was left with nothing. He cradled Beth in his arms, gently rocking her as his tears continued to burn hot tracks down his cheeks. He brushed her bloody hair away from her face so he could see her, remember her. He'd always seen her inner light, her beautiful soul, but she was beautiful too. Her skin grew cold, icy to his touch. She was so pale...was she this pale in life...it was like he was already starting to forget...how could he forget? In his arms, Beth looked like an angel...ethereal...truth was, she never belonged in this world full of pain and darkness...but that didn't make it hurt any less...make his pain go away...the knowledge that she'd escaped. Beth was his! She belonged beside him. With him...and they took her away...stole her...his one chance at...everything...

Daryl wanted to scream, break something, kill someone, he needed to feel pain...anything but the loss...but this was Beth. Gentle Beth, full of light and life. She wouldn't want to have passed in anger and violence. Daryl held her in death as he'd wanted to hold her in life...but then, it had to be done. He couldn't bear watching Beth turn. He pulled out his knife, slowly, carefully, so she wouldn't notice...she might be dead, but he had to be gentle. He didn't have it in him to hurt her. Daryl's hand trembled against the grip.

_Deep breath_.

"I'm so sorry, Beth..."


	4. Chapter 4: Say It!

~Author's Note: Here is the new chapter! Lots of bitter, angry Daryl, mad at himself and the world. For some reason, I kept going back to a certain song, "Does it Really Matter" by Theory of a Deadman, when I was writing this one. Musical inspiration I guess. I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for reading!~

* * *

Apparently Daryl had been tired enough to fall asleep. Maybe it was because he had a concrete plan of action. Maybe it was his instincts, his body telling him that if he was going to be any good out there at all, he needed rest. Whatever the reason, Daryl went there, but he didn't come back untarnished. He woke scared, in a cold sweat. His hallway was deserted and the house was quiet, but he was haunted by the images of his failures...haunted by his nightmare...

_I'm not gonna leave you!_

_ Get out! Go up the road. I'll meet you there!_

He couldn't keep his word. By the time he got to that road, Beth was gone.

Eventually, he'd left her. Well, maybe he didn't leave her, but he didn't run fast enough, didn't track far enough...should've chose to die instead of allowing himself to go with Joe's group when she would've stayed and died with him. He'd failed her just like he'd failed Hershel by givin' up his search for the Governor. If he kept this up, he would single-handedly be the undoing of the entire Greene family.

Well, he wasn't doing any good for anyone sitting in the hallway feelin' sorry for himself. The faint moonlight spilling in through the window far above where he sat showed dawn was still a while away. He wouldn't leave before dawn, but he could get ready. Daryl grabbed his crossbow and flashlight, heading out to the garage to see if the car was in working order. There were too many people with their group now for one car to make any difference, but for him, it would get him back to the beginning. And if Beth was still out there somewhere, it could mean the difference between life and death.

* * *

The noises and movement from inside the house jolted him back into reality. He'd sat down on the cold concrete steps inside the garage, lost in thought after he'd checked out the car. Apparently he'd lost track of time. Daryl jumped up defensively as the door behind him was thrown open

"Thank God...you were gone! Rick said you planned on leaving...I thought you left already!" Carol took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief.

He didn't have time for this. Even if he did, he didn't want to. Since Terminus, Rick had been the only person he'd really talked to...for various reasons...and this conversation really didn't ever need to happen in his opinion. Carol was standing on the second step, looking down at him, waiting for him to say something...but he didn't give her anything.

"Daryl, you can't go. You belong here with us."

_Us_ was an odd concept coming from Carol after what had gone down at the prison.

"I looked for Sophia," Daryl replied sharply. It was the only explanation he should have to give. Actually, he didn't have to give any explanation, but he did because of the friendship they'd shared.

"Exactly, you looked for Sophia, and you couldn't find her. With Sophia, you had a place to start. It's been too long. It's not your job to risk your life to go looking for everyone who is lost. You just need to realize, Beth is gone." Carol went into her "mom" mode, trying to tell him what he should and shouldn't do, what he should and shouldn't be. It struck him the wrong way...always had, but now even more...now that Beth was gone. Beth took him to places with out forcing him or calling him out. She'd understood him in ways that no one else ever had, ever been willing or able to.

_ You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon..._

"I looked for Sophia, and she wasn't even mine!" Daryl snapped. "I have to look for Beth!" He finished as he pushed past Carol into the house.

He'd been right last night in his thinking, that it was easier for people to just forget about Beth than to try to find her or even mourn her loss. That was fucking bullshit! Maybe Rick was really the only one who understood or even cared. Her family...they needed to feel this...Carol had started something she probably shouldn't have...but he had a few things he wanted to say to the others before he left.

"Daryl, I can't lose you too!" Carol's voice was edging on desperation.

That stopped Daryl dead in his tracks. It took him back to Hershel's farm, Beth's home. He'd been hurt, but he was willing to go back out, searching for that little girl...the little girl that wasn't even his. But her own mother stood in that barn while he tried to saddle a horse, and those very same words came out of Carol's mouth. _I can't lose you too..._ She would choose a man she barely knew over her own daughter! Of course she would try to make him stay rather than him going back out and looking for Beth. Beth wasn't even her blood. Funny thing was, all his blood was dead...but these people where his family. Guess family didn't matter shit to people anymore. And he realized something in that moment, frozen in the hallway. It wasn't going to be the walkers that destroyed the human race...no, they were doing just fine drivin' themselves into extinction...they were losing their humanity. Daryl's eyes narrowed as he adjusted his bow over his shoulder just for something to do.

He looked back at Carol, contemplating how far they'd fallen since the beginning. Thing was, he might be delusional, but Daryl felt like, even if for the shortest moment, he'd found himself...he became the person he was supposed to be...with Beth...before it all came crashing down around him.

"I ain't yours to lose," He spat. "Ain't nobody's to lose..." Well that might not be entirely true anymore, but he wasn't the one who was lost.

* * *

Daryl grabbed Beth's backpack from the hallway. He hadn't gone through it since she was taken...but he knew what was in there...he'd watch her pick it all up, all the little trinkets she found along the way that were a reminder of her life before or somehow gave her hope. Daryl never looked because they were her things, not his...he'd never had the right...but now...maybe just one thing. He reached in, pulling out Beth's journal. He allowed his hand to trace around the green cover. This...her journal...he shouldn't...this was no doubt one of the most intimate things she had. He opened it anyway, against common decency, and read a random page.

_I know it's been a while. I'm gonna be honest, I forgot about you. After the farm, we were always moving. But something happened. Something good. Finally. We found a prison. Daddy thinks that we can make it into a home. He says we can grow crops in the field, find pigs and chickens, stop running, stop scavenging. Lori's baby is just about due.  
She'll need a safe place when it comes. The rest of us, we just need a safe place to be. I woke up in my own bed yesterday. My own bed in my own room. But I've been keeping my backpack. Keeping my gun close. I've been afraid to get my hopes up thinking we can actually stay here. The thing is, I've been starting to get afraid that it's easier just to be afraid. But this morning Daddy said something. "If you don't have hope, what's the point of living?" So I unpacked my bag and I found you. So I'm gonna start writing in you again. And I'm gonna write this down now because you should write down wishes to make them come true.  
We can live here.  
We can live here for the rest of our lives._

Daryl almost lost himself to emotion. But the thing was, if he shut down, he was no good...no good to her. Nobody else cared. He closed his eyes tight, realizing how naive they'd all been. They should've let Beth and the others believe what they needed to believe to live their lives and have hope, but he shouldn't have, or Rick, or Hershel. They let everyone down by not being ready, by becoming complacent. Daryl shook it off, opening his eyes, back to reality again. He flipped to another page, why he didn't know, when he saw it. His name in Beth's handwriting. He closed the book quickly...he didn't want or need to know...he shouldn't have looked anyway.

All the same, Daryl slid the green journal into his back pocket. This was the piece of Beth he would carry with him. He would keep the best of her close at hand. And he would hold onto Hershel's words of wisdom to Beth. _If you don't have hope, what's the point of living? _

* * *

Maggie and Glenn were sitting together on the couch in the room the prison group had claimed. There was just enough light in the room from the sun coming up that he could see everyone, but Rick wasn't there. No one was really doing anything...there wasn't really anything for them to do at this point except rest, recover, regroup, and all share in the fact that, despite the odds, they'd all come back together...most of them. And Daryl was going to make sure before he left that Beth's family heard her name again whether they wanted to or not. He dropped Beth's backpack on the floor in front of Maggie and Glenn. They were startled. How they hadn't realized he was there, he had no idea. So much for survival instincts.

"This is Beth's. I thought you might want to have it seeing she's not around anymore!" Daryl's words came out more angry than he intended, probably because he was on the verge of losing control of himself.

"What is it?" Maggie asked hesitantly, not reaching for the bag or even moving.

Maybe she was affected by Beth's loss after all. She was suffering from something, just not enough to do anything about it.

"It's all Beth's shit." That came out too harsh, but it was too late to take it back now. "All the stuff she picked up while we were together, why I don't know." Daryl's voice broke off a little.

Maggie reached out and touched the backpack hesitantly before she drew her hand back.

"Daryl, you don't have to go after...she's probably..." Maggie couldn't say it, but Daryl knew what followed. _Dead_. And she couldn't even fucking say her sister's name. _Beth...just say it...Beth_.

"Daryl, you shouldn't go. We just found each other. After everything that happened..." To Glenn's credit, at least he just said "shouldn't" instead of "can't". Glenn was smart that way. The thing was, they didn't realize, that everything that happened to him happened with Beth. "She's not your responsibility anymore."

Responsibility?! She was a person. Beth was part of their group...part of their family...Responsibility?!

"You know Glenn, she ain't your responsibility 'cause she ain't your blood." The funny thing was, back when he chose to leave with Merle after they escaped from the Governor, Glenn had an entirely different idea about what tied people together.

_My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison.  
And you're part of that family, Daryl._

They hadn't been blood, but Glenn called him blood...called him family...now it didn't seem like that counted anymore...Beth didn't fit into that equation...

"You're only tied to her by law. And Maggie, she's your blood, your sister, but you don't need her anymore...you've got Glenn here to get all nice and cozy with..." He was sayin' shit he probably shouldn't say, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Daryl, that's not fair." Glenn put his arm around a despondent Maggie and pulled her close as he called Daryl out.

"Life ain't fair! You see any fair 'round here, 'cause I sure in the Hell don't." Their conversation wasn't private anymore, but it didn't need to be. He didn't care. Let 'em listen. Let 'em hear. It was a good dose of reality. "And I heard 'bout your little signs...the one's you left for Glenn. Guess it was too hard to write her name too. We're probably lucky though. If she'd ended up at Terminus, you wouldn't have done nothin' to save her!"

Glenn was uncomfortable. Maggie was cryin', but nobody made a move to stop him. Everyone else was silent.

"Come on, can't you even say her name? One syllable...just one...Beth...say it...Beth...the sweet little blonde girl you grew up with...Beth...called you her sister...Beth...Say It!"

Nothing...not even Judith made a peep in the background. And Maggie still wouldn't say it.

"To Hell with y'all!" Daryl spat, turning away.

"Why are you doing this?" Maggie choked through her tears.

That was a pretty broad question...but he had an answer he would probably regret later.

"She might mean nothin' to you, but to me, Beth's everything...she's all I got." Yep, he was gonna regret that later, not that he felt it, just that he said it.

"I wouldn't suggest..." So Rick finally appeared. Daryl thought at first Rick was talking to him until he knew he wasn't.


	5. Chapter 5: Provoked and Broken

Author's Note: On to Chapter 5! Daryl's still in a dark place. Thanks to all of you who are reading! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

He turned just as Abraham stepped into his personal space.

"Son, you need to calm the fuck down..."

This wasn't gonna go well...Daryl's group knew that, clearing out and making space for the prospective kill zone.

"Who you callin' 'son', Red?!" He was already on the edge. Daryl didn't need much more to be pushed over.

"You need to calm the fuck down and just think about this for a minute." Daryl wasn't calm, but he hadn't been pushed to the limit here yet, so he just stood his ground. "We've got a mission. As soon as we've had some time to recover, we're heading out to get Eugene to D.C. We're fighting for something big...we're fighting for the world, and you're coming with us."

"Pfft...should've asked me if I cared 'bout the world before you made an ass of yourself thinking I did, 'cause I don't. World ain't never cared 'bout me, ain't never done nothin' but fuck me every time it got the chance. I care 'bout these people, but they got Rick and each other. I care 'bout Beth, and she ain't got no one. I ain't gonna leave her that way!" Daryl asserted.

"I can't let you go."

Daryl disregarded him, turning away. "You don't got no say in it!"

Daryl didn't really know what triggered his response, whether it was Abraham's beefy hand grabbing his upper arm or the words that flew out of his mouth.

"She's dead, as good as dead, or worse. She's gone. Get the fuck over her!"

_Dead...worse...gone..._

The butt of Daryl's bow was always good at breaking bones. Abraham was on his knees, his nose spewing blood, blood dripping between his fingers as he attempted to staunch the flow. Daryl's crossbow was aimed squarely between his eyes...it was the business end now...he only needed a reason, one small reason, and it would only be the mullet scientist and GI Barbie heading off to DC to "save the world". Daryl saw Rick beside him through his peripheral vision. He waited for Rick to intervene, but he didn't.

"You gonna do something about your boy?!" Abe was furious, blood dripping through his ridiculous mustache and down into his mouth, the stream of red starting to pool on the wood floor in front of him as it escaped his hand...

Apparently Abraham was taking him serious now, not making a move against Daryl. He found a lot of people really started taking him seriously when he was staring down the sights of his crossbow at 'em.

"Sorry. This is between men...not my place...I'm not gonna step between you." Rick had his back. "Just to set the record straight, I'm with Daryl. Beth's one of ours. We protect our own. I wanted to go with him, but Daryl vetoed my decision."

Rick said it...someone finally said Beth was worth it...Rick told everyone that Beth was part of them; she mattered and deserved their protection.

Daryl took a deep breath. It was over. He had Rick's support. He needed to get a move on. He just needed to let it go...he turned away form the bloody mess...

"Son of a Dick! You lost a piece of ass, and you're gonna..."

Daryl heard some sort of guttural noise escape his throat before he had the prick laid out flat on the ground...but it didn't seem to sound like it came from him. He'd felt Rick try to grab his arm before he flew at Abraham, but it wasn't enough. Foot on the heaving chest below him, Daryl allowed his face to get uncomfortably close to Abraham's, just not as close as his hunting knife biting at his jugular. For someone out to save the world, he sure in the hell didn't have quick enough reflexes. Daryl pushed just hard enough to bring the blood. The body below him was absolutely still, knowing that one wrong move would end it all, either his or Abraham's, which, didn't really matter.

"Her name's Beth, and that's not what she is!" Daryl wasn't really sure whether he intended to kill Abe or not. It could go either way. "You got somethin' you wanna say before we part?!

"Your sweet little piece of ass, even if she isn't dead, she isn't yours anymore. She won't recognize you, and if she lets you touch her, she'll do it 'cause she thinks she has to to survive, not 'cause she wants you. You'll be just like any of the other dozen or more who've fucked her by now. On the off chance you find that little thing you want so bad out there, do yourselves both a favor and shoot her between the eyes. She won't be no good to you anymore, and it'd be a kindness to her...or maybe not. Stupid redneck like you wouldn't be any different to her than those other men. And you probably won't know the difference either!"

How could a person even say those things? Daryl's world went blurry. He lost his grip on both his knife and crossbow...heard both clattering against the wood floor.

He didn't know how, but he found himself back in the hallway, away from everyone, kneeling, facing the wall, hand pressed against the smooth surface just to keep contact with something real. If he made it back with Beth, there would be a reckoning!

Daryl bowed his head. He didn't even try to fight back the bitter tears. Beth...everything that happened to her was his fault. He couldn't even...

Daryl heard more yelling from the other room. Rick...Abraham...maybe even Glenn...Tyreese? It didn't matter. He couldn't understand anything they were saying...was that Maggie's voice...nothing mattered. He clenched his eyes tight.

Rick came to him...he didn't know how long after...

Daryl felt Rick beside him, felt Rick's broad hand pressing between his shoulder blades. He couldn't say anything...he was still cryin' like a pansy-ass and couldn't pull a coherent string of words together if his life depended on it. Rick probably knew he was cryin', but there was no way he would call him on it. Daryl allowed his forehead to lean against the wall. The cool surface felt good against his pounding head. Rick didn't say anything. Didn't make Daryl talk. He just kept his hand steady in the middle of his back, making his presence known. That was what Daryl needed. Sometimes too many words were too much. When Daryl finally calmed himself as much as possible, he let out a deep breath and tried to focus on what he needed to do. He just needed to clear something up. Not that it was directed at Rick...at anyone...maybe Abraham...but the next "conversation" he had with Abe wasn't gonna turn out so pretty...maybe he just needed to clear it up for himself.

"I didn't lose Beth...I didn't...lose her...She was stolen from me!"

"I know..."

Did Rick know that or was he just sayin' it to make him feel better? It didn't matter.

Daryl finally found the strength to stand...the strength to get on with what he needed to do. Rick handed him his crossbow and hunting knife which he had disregarded in is retreat from the others. At least Rick hadn't let 'em lay. He needed to stop being so irrationally emotional and man the fuck up! Daryl felt much better with his knife at his hip and the weight of his bow over his shoulder where it belonged.

"And take this. You never picked it back up after Terminus." Rick pulled Daryl's gun from his back waistband, offering it to him.

"No...you should keep it. Too many people, not enough guns." Daryl might be leaving, but he still cared about what happened to his group.

"We need you to come back alive. The man holding the gun means a hell of a lot more than just an extra gun, and you've only got so many bolts," Rick insisted in the way he always did.

Rick was right. The problem was, he was probably goin' on a one way trip. He took his gun all the same and tucked it in the familiar spot at the small of his back.

"Rick, if I don't find Beth, I ain't comin' back." Daryl looked at the ground. For some reason, he couldn't look Rick in the face.

Daryl didn't know exactly what he meant by not coming back if he didn't find Beth, but he just had the feeling that if he failed, he wouldn't ever see any of them again. Whether he would die trying or wander off on his own until he was done and had punished himself long enough, he couldn't really say...

"I had a feelin'." Rick wasn't stupid. Never had been. Sometimes he was too hopeful or unrealistic because of that hope or need to hope, but those were flaws a person could live with.

"I'm not stupid. I know it's pretty much impossible that I'll find Beth..." Daryl knew it, but he just had to try.

"Hmmph." Rick looked down and shook his head a little.

"What?"

"Not impossible, just improbable...and I see a whole lot of improbable that brought us here today, alive, standing face to face." Rick's voice carried the small hint of hope that Daryl so desperately needed.

He nodded, accepting what Rick said.

"We'll wait here for you to get back with Beth."

"You probably shouldn't do that...like I said, if..." Rick didn't give him time to finish.

"I know what you said, but we'll wait, let's say, a couple days at least. Then after that, you know where we're headed and how we plan to get there. We'll be watching for you on the horizon." Rick was getting all poetic.

"Red ain't gonna like that, you waitin' 'round here for me to get back." Truth was, now Abraham would probably be glad to see him go!

"Like you said, he doesn't have any say in it." That was something Daryl needed too, Rick still standing by his side.

"Rick, be careful though. You really need to think about this save the world mission." Daryl didn't want to undermine Rick, but Rick really needed to open his eyes and see.

"What do you mean?" Rick sounded confused.

"Just remember the CDC and everything Jenner told us. You need to think on it..." It was like with Shane. Maybe Rick didn't want to see what was going on. But things were different now. Daryl was different now. He wasn't gonna let things get as out of hand as they did with Shane. He was too invested.

Rick nodded. "You gonna say goodbye to everyone?"

_I'm glad I didn't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes._

_ Me too_.

"I hate goodbyes," Daryl closed his eyes, thinking about Beth, about how every memory he had of her, with her, was so strong...how everything she had ever said or done had such a huge impact on him, even now when she was gone...so far away...

Rick clapped him on the shoulder.

"Umm...excuse me..."

The unfamiliar voice broke the brotherly moment. They both looked at one of the men who'd escaped Terminus with them. It was okay he interrupted though. Daryl decided to take the opportunity to leave without any prolonged awkward moments.

"I'm gonna go ahead and head out. I hope to see you again, brother." Daryl offered Rick his hand.

Rick took his hand and pulled him into a strong embrace. They were brothers.

"No...wait..." Daryl didn't really know why he should wait on this man's word, but something told him it might be worth it.

"You got somethin' to say, say it. I ain't got all day."

"You guys lost someone, you're looking for a girl, right?"

"What of it?" Rick's interest was peaked.

"Well, we heard you guys talking last night about a car with a cross on it's window...we've seen..."

"Where?" Daryl just couldn't give him a chance to finish. Hope. Maybe it was a sign.

"It was before we got caught at Terminus. It was a little community we came across. They were secure, but they took us in, no questions asked. They gave us food and a place to stay as long as we wanted. But I think they were some kind of cult...they preached some pretty strange things. We didn't stay...they let us leave and everything, but I had this bad feeling. The car was there though..."

"Beth, was she there? A young, pretty blonde girl?" Rick got the question out before Daryl got the chance.

"I don't know. There were a lot of people there, and I was keeping an eye on my own, but there was one young blonde woman who stood out..."

"Spit it out!" Daryl was starting to loss his patience. He didn't need this guy's life story, just the facts.

"We couldn't get anywhere near her, so I don't know...she didn't look like she belonged there though...like she wanted to be there...they said she was a gift from God..."

Daryl's pulse raced. It was Beth. He knew it in his heart. She was alive...but what had they done to her? Would he ever really be able to save Beth?

"Can you tell us where...give us directions?" Rick was as frantically excited as he should be, but Daryl was struck speechless with a contradictory combination of hope and terror.

"Yeah...I can do better...I can show you...we found a map last night in the desk."

Rick grabbed Daryl by his shoulders, the closest thing to happiness possible in their situation spread across Rick's face.

"Daryl, this is a solid lead! Everything points to Beth being there! You've got you're sign!"

"The signs are all there, you just gotta know how to read 'em," Daryl said below his breath, closing his eyes to see her.

"What?" Rick questioned.

"Nothin'. Just somethin' I told Beth while we were together." If only she'd known that he meant so much more than just tracking.


	6. Chapter 6: Barely Breathing

~Author's Note: Hi everyone! Here is the next chapter. It's a Beth chapter. Sorry we're moving away from Daryl for this one, but we need to see what's going on with Beth. Thanks to all of you who are reading this! I hope you enjoy, and I appreciate all of you!~

* * *

She was cold...so cold...weak, nothing mattered...everything hurt. She just wished she could stop breathing, but she couldn't. Instinct, survival instinct wouldn't let her...

She wasn't even Beth anymore...she had no memories of her life before...she was just a soulless body waiting to die...too weak to even beg God for mercy. She just waited for death. Every time she began to slip from consciousness into the void, she felt grateful that her pain was at an end, only to wake and find it had been only a momentary release from the pain.

* * *

When Brother Allerton came for her, she was burning with fever. He released her hands from above her head, sending her crashing to the floor as her body crumpled under her. Beth felt the pain of the collision, but she couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't even cry. The cold floor was soothing though. She pressed her body flat against it for relief despite the pain of the pressure. Beth felt a toed boot come in sharp contact with her side. The pain was muted in the moment. She almost didn't feel it. She knew he was screaming at her, she just couldn't make out what he was screaming. Even if she could, Beth wouldn't be able to do what he wanted, so she just laid there, hoping he would continue kicking her until she died.

Beth hadn't really noticed the attack had stopped. Maybe since she couldn't fight...she didn't struggle...the violence lost its appeal to Brother Allerton...but was he even there? For a moment, she thought that maybe, just maybe she had escaped the world...the pain...the sadness, even if it was some place in between...

But that wasn't the case. Allerton came back. Even though her eyes were closed tight and there was some odd disconnect between herself and the world, she knew that much because he was the only one that came for her. No...there was something else...

"What happened to her?" The unfamiliar voice drew her closer back to reality.

"Her injuries...she sustained them from her fall...they worsen. She's an angel, too fragile for this world." It still amazed her that he could be so composed before the violence flew.

"Cut the bullshit. You know I don't buy into your religious extremism." The voice was strong, assertive, but Beth cringed, dreading the pain that Allerton would inflict on him.

"Be careful my son. You would not want to find yourself outside the grace of the Lord Our God." Beth could hear the tension in his voice, but Brother Allerton didn't snap.

"Don't threaten me. You need me. You're not likely to find another doctor around. And if this is what your god tells you to do to women, I don't want his grace."

Beth felt a presence beside her, a hand brushing back her sweaty hair from her face, resting on her forehead. She instinctively flinched from his touch, waiting for the pain to follow.

"Shhh sweetheart, I'm not gonna hurt you..." He spoke softly, slowly, as not to frighten her. "She's burning with fever! Why is she not in bed? Why is she handcuffed?!"

"She spends her nights in devotion, bound to God, reaching for the heavens." Brother Allerton was insane. Maybe this person, this doctor, saw it too.

He touched her arm gently. Beth was unable to stop the small cry of pain that escaped her lips. The pain had become a constant; she embraced it, but when another factor such as touch was introduced, it was too much.

"He hangs you from the ceiling." It wasn't a question. The man knew she couldn't answer...it was a realization, a realization that he let her know he understood what she was going through.

Beth felt strong arms scoop her up off the soothing cold floor. The pain was extraordinary, but the fact that the embrace was a kindness made it bearable. The bed...the blankets...a pillow, softness allowed Beth a small measure of comfort.

"The keys!" The doctor barked, and Beth felt her hands released.

He was gone then...had it all been a hallucination? But Brother Allerton was still near...he was the one person she could never escape...he was always there.

Beth had slipped into merciful darkness again but was jolted out of it by the excruciating pain of hands pressing against her broken ribs covered in black and blue skin. She couldn't cry out, but she feebly grabbed the man's hand to stop the pressure. The pain wasn't being caused intentionally, but it was torture all the same. He held her hand momentarily, squeezing it softly.

"I'm sorry for what's happened to you," he whispered as he drew the covers up over her.

Someone she didn't know cared enough to say that to her. It was a kindness.

"Is it the Lord Our God's will that she live? What is her worldly affliction?"

Beth forced herself to focus. They were talking about her. She needed to know.

"Pneumonia. Brought on by the broken ribs. The original injuries, however you claim they were sustained, would have been enough to cause respiratory problems, but continual trauma and constant stress to the body exacerbated the wounds and allowed the pneumonia to set in deeper. Is there anything else you've done to her that I need to know about?"

Brother Allerton hesitated. "...there have been sedatives...to help her with the stress of living in the mortal world..."

"God dammit."

This was her death warrant. Death would come to collect soon.

"Will she live?" Was that fear she heard in Allerton's voice? She wanted him to be afraid.

"I doubt it, and I hope she doesn't. It would be a kindness with what she's suffered." Beth waited to hear Brother Allerton's rage in reply, but it didn't come. "If there is any chance of her living, you have to stop beating her. You need to let her sleep, stay in bed, rest, she needs to have food. Even then, I'm not sure any of it will matter."

"She must come to the Lord's meetings. The congregation expects her." He'd regained a bit of his composure, no doubt driven by his delusional fervor.

"Do what you want with her. Nothing I say to you is going to matter. Parade her around, it will only hasten the end. It's out of my hands now."

There was unexpected contact, a hand behind her neck raising her head...pills being offered. Beth refused them; she just wanted to go.

_What are we waiting for? We should both do it...help each other...it's hard to do, no one wants to, but...we can do it so it's peaceful...easy...our choice, and then it would be over. Or we'll be forced to do it when the farm and this house are overrun...no one can protect us...we're alone...I wanna go in this bed, tonight...please..._

The memory formed in her mind...something from her past...a piece of herself...and she'd thought she'd lost all of herself to the sickness and pain. She'd wanted to go then...with Maggie...Maggie, her sister, she remembered...but for some reason, she knew she was grateful she hadn't died then, a reason the extra time mattered...she just couldn't remember the reason.

"You need to take these." The voice was kind but insistent.

"Plea...please...just let me die..." Beth managed, but she wasn't sure her words could be understood.

"They will help with the pain, make you sleep."

_Sleep._ He'd said she would likely die. It felt like the end was near. If she was going to go either way, sleeping would be easier, and maybe the pills would even help her along her way. She accepted them, forcing herself to swallow a sip of water.

Beth was alone again with Allerton; she could feel his presence looming over her.

"You do not have my permission to die. I am as God to you." He was losing his battle, losing her, and there was nothing he could do about it. Beth took satisfaction in that, satisfaction in knowing he was afraid...He was lost.

_You are not God_. Beth wasn't able to say it, but just being able to think it in the end was defiant enough.

Then she remembered the reason it was better she hadn't died...killed herself...on the farm. Daryl. His image in her mind so clear and vivid now she didn't know how she'd ever lost it.

_ No one can protect us...we're alone..._

That wasn't true...it wasn't even true then, when she had said it to Maggie back home on the farm, but now...now it was even less true. She hadn't been alone...Daryl took her with him when he ran from the prison. He could've left her...but he didn't. He'd protected her with his life...

And the sweet moments they'd shared, no matter how brief the time, she remembered. He'd died for her...died saving her...that meant something...she'd meant something to him. Maybe she would see Daryl again...soon...She drifted away, happy she remembered why living had been worth it...

* * *

"Bethy...Bethy...wakeup..."

Beth's eyes fluttered, but she refused to open them. She just wanted to sleep.

"Bethy, time to get up..." A gentle hand on her shoulder shook her this time.

She opened her eyes since there didn't seem to be any other choice. It couldn't be...it wasn't possible.

"Daddy!"

Beth threw her arms around his neck. He hugged her...it all felt so very real. Maybe it was. She let him go, pulling back to look at him. He looked just as he had the last time she was with him...before the Governor...she looked around the bright, sunlit room...her room in their home.

"Am I dead?" She wasn't scared to be dead. If this was what the after looked like, she was happy.

Her Daddy was perched on the side of her bed, now holding her hand.

"Do you want to be?"

The memories of the pain and torture formed fresh in her mind. And even if she lived, somehow survived, she...almost everyone was guarantied a gruesome death...the walkers. If she was already dead, death had come softly, as a mercy. She couldn't find the right answer to the question...the simple answer was "yes", but it refused to come out of her mouth.

He reached out, brushing her hair back, resting his hand affectionately on her cheek. She never thought she would see him again, talk to him, hear his voice. Beth felt like crying, but the tears wouldn't come.

"Maggie was always such a willful, independent child. More often than not, she was causing trouble rather than trying to stay out of it. She never needed me much, never wanted help from me even when she needed it. Maggie grew up to be a strong, beautiful, independent woman I'm proud to call my daughter."

Beth smiled; that was Maggie alright. She could hear the happiness in his voice, see the sparkle in his eye. Her Daddy had never been a prideful man...unless it came to his children...especially Maggie.

"And then you came along, my sweet, gentle Beth. You needed me, and sometimes for a father, any man for that fact, being needed means everything. You even allowed me to help you when you didn't need me, for my sake. Maggie's strong and independent to a fault. Those are her strengths, but you Beth, your hope, faith, your capacity for love, those are rare strengths, rarer still in the world as it is now."

"Daddy..." Beth didn't really know why he was saying all this, but she wanted him to stop...needed him to stop. She was afraid he was saying it all because she wasn't dead, and their time together was short.

"No Beth, you need to listen," He insisted, squeezing her had. "I was never much one for praise. I was afraid it would ruin you girls, but you deserve to hear it now. You have a rare gift, Beth. You know what people need, and you are selfless enough to give the people you love what they need despite yourself. You let yourself need me, and as a father, that is one of the greatest gifts I ever received."

"But I did need you, Daddy. I still do!"

A sad but knowing smile spread across his face.

"Not so much anymore."

"I need you," Beth insisted. She didn't understand why he thought she didn't need him...especially now!

Her Daddy's face bore a bittersweet smile. "No man is good enough for your little girl, until one is. I just never thought that man would've come along for you so quickly...but he was there when I couldn't be. You need him now..."

Beth felt a strange emptiness in the pit of her stomach, something pulling at her...pulling her away from where she was to something unknown.

"I'll always need you..." Her heart was breaking. How could he be thinking that!

"No Beth...you'll always love me...but need, someone else stood up and took my place. He's a good man. He's in your heart too...yours is big enough for both of us." He touched his hand softly over the place where her heart was beating...

_Beating?_

Now that she focused on it, she could feel her heart beating, hear the beat in her ears...it was deafening...drowning out everything else...telling her she wasn't gone yet.

"I'm not dead..." It wasn't a question, rather a sad realization that this was nothing more than a dream...a fever dream or hallucination...the only real thing, the pain, waited for her on the other side.

"Do you want to be? What you want is part of that decision. You should be dead." His voice was serious and wise as it had been so often throughout her life. "But there is some part of you, something you are holding onto...something you're not willing to let go of."

_No man is good enough for your little girl, until one is._

"God never gives us more than we can bear. Is what you're holding onto worth the pain, worth the suffering?"

"Daryl...is dead..." Beth managed before choking up.

"Is he?"

_Is he..._

"He couldn't have survived..."

Daddy was still sitting beside her, squeezing her hand, but part of her was moving away...becoming more distant...

"Bethy...he needs you too...fight for him...let him know you need him...it's okay..."

* * *

_Do you want to be dead?_

Beth knew the answer now...

"No." Beth opened her eyes. She was awake...alive...


	7. Chapter 7: Fight Our Fates 'Til We Die

~Author's Note: So, here's the next one. It isn't that great...but it was a direction I wanted to go to further establish and solidify a certain bond. More musical inspiration too...I've been feeling too musical lately, but for me, it just enriches the creative process. I had Slipknot's "'Til We Die" in mind while writing this one. That's where the title of this chapter came from. Hope you enjoy it at least a little, and thanks for reading! I appreciate you guys!~

* * *

Daryl abandoned the car about a half mile or so back from the location he was shown on the map. He wanted to move in silently, unnoticed at first. After that, he didn't really know what the game plan was. The man with the info on the location made it should like it was pretty easy to get in...goin' in at least, guns blazin', probably wasn't the best move. He didn't even know if it was Beth in here. Gettin' himself killed wasn't gonna help Beth none if she was somewhere else. But he did know! In his heart. She was here...all the signs...

He'd been told it would be easy to get here...almost a straight line from Terminus...but in a car, it hadn't been easy at all. Going around all the snarl-ups, avoiding debris, dodging walkers he didn't have the time to stop and deal with, cost him most of the day. By the time he parked at the edge of the blacktop, the sky was turning pink as the sun started to fade away. The days were gettin' shorter.

Daryl could've gotten to this point much quicker on foot, even if he was just walking, not running. The thing was, when he got to Beth, much as it made him cringe, she might be hurt, and they needed a way out. He wasn't willing to find her just to lose her again by one of the biting it. It was good that the sun was goin' down. Dusk had a way of distorting things, tricking people's minds into seeing things that weren't there or not seeing things that were obvious. And then dark would come. Daryl could work with sunset. He'd spent most of his life outdoors, nothing tricked him. He wasn't bragging, his mind was just too sharp for nature to screw with. When full dark came, he would have the upper hand.

He stopped just within the cover of the tree line, crouching down to assess the situation. The "complex" was set back in a small clearing. It didn't look like much, and it didn't look all that secure. There was a school building and a playground set at one end of the small field, surrounded by a tall chain link fence with random school buses parked along the perimeter, probably at what they felt were the weak points. The church itself and what looked like an attached meeting hall on one side and parsonage on the other was protected by a wooden privacy fence resembling those around a suburban clone home with a hundred other identical homes in a neighborhood if it hadn't been constructed outta such rough hewn lumber. It looked like there was just one way in and one way out, a main gate at the front of the church's perimeter. But if he could get his hands over the top of that fence, he could get in unnoticed at any point.

Daryl watched as the people started migrating from the school complex to the church site. Must've been meetin' time. He didn't know if that made his mission easier or harder...whether he should wait until full dark to make his move when people were gone and things were calm. He watched carefully as people entered the gate. They were mostly families or small, non-threatening groups, barely any armed with a knife he could see, much less a gun. The two "guards" standin' at the gate greeting people were both armed with deer rifles and smiles. He watched, waited, desperately looking for Beth to appear among the faithful headed to the church, but she wasn't with them. The realistic part of him knew that she wouldn't be. If these crazies and their charismatic leader thought that she was some sort of gift from God, she would be kept close at hand in the place they believed was the safest...near the sanctuary.

He stood. It had to be now. Daryl had to know where Beth was and what sort of state she was in. If this place preached crazy shit, God knows what they were doin' to her in the name of God. He had to shake the images outta his head and bite back his anger. Goin' in angry wasn't gonna help him none. He needed to go in smart. Anger might help later, but not goin' in, not initially. He checked to make sure his hunting knife was still secured at the familiar place at his hip. He knew it was there, but hunters always checked. He smoothed his jacket and vest down over his pistol, concealed in his back waistband. People always seemed to get more worked up about guns than knives and bows, even crossbows. That made 'em stupid 'cause they didn't know him, but Daryl was thankful for every advantage he could get. Crossbow over his shoulder, it was time to make his move.

Something snapped in the distance behind him. Daryl froze and hunkered down instinctively. Someone...no, more than one someone...was crashing through the underbrush. It weren't no animals neither, only people were that loud in the woods! Maybe he'd been wrong 'bout the preparedness of this cult. Maybe their visible security was lacking 'cause they had scouts or hidden assets. He cursed himself under his breath for being caught like that again. That was exactly what happened to him, Rick, Carl, and Michonne at Terminus! He was fucking better than this! He slid behind the wide trunk of a tree, watching...waiting to be able to calculate his odds. And then he saw them where they stopped some ten yards away from him.

_What the Hell!_

"Are you sure he went this way?"

"You saw him get out of the car and head off into the tree line. He was headed toward the church. This is the only way he could've gone."

They were attempting to use hushed voices, but he could hear 'em clear as day!

"Yeah...but there aren't any tracks or anything..."

"It's Daryl. He's not going to be trackable," Rick informed Carl before pressing forward again.

Well, it wasn't scouts, but it was just as bad. Nothin' to be done about it now though. He needed to stop 'em before they screwed up whatever little bit of plan he had. Daryl stepped out in their line of sight, but even then, they didn't notice him...twilight...it fucked with people's heads...they couldn't see what was right in front of 'em.

"What the hell are you doin' here?" Daryl projected his hushed voice towards Rick and Carl.

They both drew on him reflexively...good...at least they had some useful instincts.

"That's the fourth time you've pointed that gun at my head. You gonna shoot or what?" Daryl knew the answer. Rick understood the question. It was part of their past.

Both man and son lowered their weapons once they saw it was him, approaching his location. There was a reason he'd never taken Rick hunting...now he knew why! They were so noisy! He didn't move to meet them...letting them approach. No point putting off their noise making.

"What in the hell are you doin' here?" He repeated the question. "I told you no!" Even Daryl's hushed tone was assertive.

"That was before we knew where Beth was and you were just heading off into the great wide open, not planning on coming back. Things changed." Rick was a stubborn sum'bitch...always had been.

All three had crouched down to minimize their existence in the woods.

"And you brought Carl!" Daryl commented.

"What's that supposed to mean? I can take car of myself!" Carl challenged.

Daryl liked this kid...probably didn't give him enough credit. He could hold his own, and he'd proved he was lethal. Thing was, if things went south, he didn't want Carl's blood on his hands. Rick's neither.

"Yeah...Carl's here. I've got a plan," Rick informed.

Daryl took a deep breath. He had a plan...but it wasn't much of a plan...go in and see what happens. Truth was...he wasn't a one man army. If this was going to be a rescue mission, if Beth was going to make it out alive, he probably needed help.

"So, what's this plan...spill it...we ain't got all night." Daryl didn't mean to be sharp, but if Beth was in there...she was so close, but still so far away. They needed to get her out.

"I got some information on this place after you left. These people, they might be crazy, but their apparently not paranoid. They take people in easy. The newcomers stay in the church the first night. I was told that after their service was held, the blonde girl...maybe Beth...was taken out the door of the sanctuary by the altar. It means, more than likely, she's being kept in the church."

"I'm hearing a whole lot of talking and not a lot of plan..." Daryl was getting impatient. He already assumed all that. This was a waste of his time...Beth's life.

"We're going in."

"That's your plan? That was my plan!" Daryl barked, getting up to move into action.

"Shh...listen to me." Rick grabbed his arm, stopping him from heading out. "Carl and I are going in. Have you taken a look at yourself, Daryl? You haven't even washed the blood off yet. You're a nightmare."

Daryl furrowed his brow and glared. Why in the fuck did that matter?

"Taken a look at yourself lately, Rick...you've seen better days!" Daryl spat.

Daryl didn't have a problem with Rick, but right now Rick was stopping him from what he needed to do...standing between him and Beth...and that wasn't a good place for anyone to decide to stand!

"Exactly...I look wounded...hurt. You just somehow look more dangerous when you're like this. You'll probably be shot on sight. Me, a wounded man with his son seeking sanctuary..."

Rick was right. Daryl nodded his head in understanding.

"Carl and I, we'll go through the main gates. Two new people should be enough of a distraction for you to get over the fence unnoticed. We don't really know what their defenses are like at night...so you can find a place to hunker down until the meeting is over and the church is clear...then we'll let you in and get Beth out if she's in there." Rick's tone sounded like he was trying really hard to convince him, but he didn't have to. It was better than what Daryl had. He nodded and Rick accepted, standing to move into action.

Rick unbuckled his gun belt, passing it to Daryl.

"What's this for?" Daryl refused it.

"Carl, give Daryl your gun," Rick instructed. "We're going in unarmed. It's a church. They give sanctuary...we don't want them to suspect us. You're coming in heavy."

Rick had his mind made up. There was no use arguing with him. And he was right, no matter how much Daryl hated it...them going in with no guns. Carl passed him his gun, Daryl tucking it under the front of his shirt, and finally taking Rick's gun belt, fastening it securely around his hips. The Python...it wasn't his kind of weapon, but it was who Rick was just like his crossbow was who Daryl was. That Rick trusted him with it...well, that was a feeling he didn't need to deal with right now. He just knew he wouldn't be able to get it back to Rick fast enough. Rick and Carl's lives were truly on him now, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Let's go," Rick was ready to put it all on the line.

"Rick, wait," Daryl held his ground as Rick and Carl looked back at him. "Why are you doing this?" It was a fair enough question.

"Beth's one of ours...our family...we're not going to leave her out here all alone." Rick was approaching him. It was the answer Daryl expected, but he needed to hear it all the same. He felt Rick's hand on his shoulder; he was so close that only Daryl could hear his words. "You offered yourself to save me...my son...put your bow down and offered up your blood...your life..."

"Anyone would've done that," Daryl cut him off.

"No...a brother would've done that. You saved my family. I'm gonna help you save yours."

Daryl looked down, shaking his head, biting back unwanted emotion.

"Daryl, I know...I'm not stupid. You don't have to say it...you're my brother, and we're gonna get Beth back to you...give you both a chance."

"Rick...thank you," Daryl managed.

"It's what we do...you told me that once, 'It's what we do'. It's my turn now."


	8. Chapter 8: Lucid

~Author's Note: Here's the new chapter. I hope you guys enjoy! The next one will be a bit more exciting, I promise. There will be blood! Thanks for reading. You are all awesome!~

* * *

Her dress was white. It was pretty. Beth apparently wasn't gong to be killed...that didn't seem like the plan, and she hadn't died on her own, so she would take whatever beauty in life she could get. Her lot had become a mixed bag of good and bad. She was sick...feverish, weak, but she'd been unchained, given a bed, medicine, the beatings stopped, and she hadn't been drugged. She wasn't quite sure why the sedatives had stopped, whether Brother Allerton was worried they would kill her in her condition or if he thought she was too weak to fight. Both were probably true. The medicine dulled her pain, helped control her fever, and would maybe help her survive. Why was she trying to survive now? Because of a dream...a hallucination...whether it was caused by fever or was just a dream...it was strong enough to give her a reason to fight. She didn't know if Daryl was alive or dead...how would he have escaped the herd of walkers at the funeral parlor? The thing was...Daryl died saving her, and she wasn't going to waste his sacrifice if she could help it.

She'd been allowed to rest in bed one day, allowed to miss one night of him parading her in front of his congregation. Even though the beatings stopped, Allerton still cut her, still marked her for rejecting him. It had been ten nights...nine cuts...no mark the first night. It didn't seem like the fact the doctor told him that she was probably going to die made a difference in his delusional pursuit of her affections.

Beth was still feverish but lucid. She didn't let Allerton know that though...she didn't want him to know she was fighting. He'd sat her in the front pew of the church like he did every day at this time, kissed her on the forehead before he went to greet his arriving flock. She had to force herself not to flinch away, not wanting him to know just how lucid she was. If she continued to act complacent, maybe he would let his guard down. If he let his guard down, maybe she could eventually escape...escape to what, she didn't know. And she would probably die out there without the medicine or because she was too weak to fight off the walkers or run from them. The thought of death really didn't scare her anymore...she had faith, always had...she just wanted to die on her own terms...free and fighting, like Daryl had.

She wanted to feel the warmth of the fading sun. Beth left her designated seat in the pew and went slowly towards the piano by the window, sliding onto the bench. She looked outside longingly even though she could see very little over the confines of the tall wooden fence that protected the church. Beth realized she would probably never feel the warmth of the sun on her face again, and that made her sad. There was nothing she could do about it now. She turned away from the window, staring down at the discolored keys of the piano. Her fingers went instinctively to the keys, but she didn't press them, only allowing herself to caress the cool ivory. That part of her life was over...it had died with Daryl that night in the funeral parlor. She'd stopped playing as soon as she noticed he was there, listening. He'd called her out on her singing before, and Beth didn't think she could take him ridiculing her for something she loved. But he'd surprised her.

_ Why don't you go ahead and play some more? Keep singing._

_ I thought my singing annoyed you?_

_ There ain't no jukebox, so..._

_ ...and we'll buy a beer to shotgun, we'll lay on the lawn and we'll be good now, I'm laughing at my boredom and my string of failed attempts..._

Daryl had laid in that stupid coffin, listening to her sing and play. He'd laid down in that coffin...then he'd died...God was cruel sometimes. Beth felt tears welling in her eyes at the memory. She reached up and quickly brushed them away.

Something tapped against the window. Beth hoped it was a bird. She would like to see a bird...a free bird. She was a bird in a cage.

Maybe she was more feverish, sicker than she thought because what Beth saw wasn't real. She turned away from the hallucination before she broke. There were more taps, this time a quick succession of louder taps. She had to look.

Daryl! How could he be there? He was dead. But there he was, outside the church window, black eyes and beaten face...bloody...no one had ever looked more beautiful. Was he real? Without thinking, Beth made a sudden move, standing to get to the window, the pain shooting up her side in punishment for her stupidity, forcing her to double over, her arms crossing her sides. Daryl put his hand up, signaling her to stay still, concern crossing his beaten face. He brought a finger up to his lips, telling her to remain silent. Then he disappeared.

Beth closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure. She couldn't do anything to jeopardize whatever Daryl was doing.

Daryl...

Beth felt alive again. Daryl had escaped death. He came looking for her...why? He'd once said that everyone was as good as dead because she would never see them again. But he tracked her, found her against all odds. Why?

_You know..._

_Oh..._

Beth promised herself, if she ever got the chance, she would give Daryl a better reply than "oh".

* * *

Daryl sank down, out of the window, his hands forced to the ground to balance himself. He blew out a heavy breath, inhaling the cool air deeply to calm the nausea that was building in his stomach. He had to close his eyes. His head was swimming...

_Beth..._

It was Beth. He'd found her. She was alive. He should be feelin' one thing...joy, happiness, relief...well, that was more than one thing, but the occasion seemed to call for all of 'em. Even though those feelings were there, they were overshadowed by rage, anger, the need to exact revenge...for someone to bleed.

When he'd first seen her through the window...for a second, he though God might've been merciful...given him the one thing in life he wanted...needed...given him Beth back. A chance to make it right, to say what he wanted to say in that funeral parlor before she was stolen...the words that had been haunting him every day since, no matter what they'd faced, who they were killing, who was tryin' to kill him...whether or not he was bleeding or it was someone else.

But then he looked at her, really saw her with open eyes. Beth's face was marred with healing bruises in varying stages of blue and green and yellow and brown, stages he'd known and felt his entire life. When they were fresh, she would have looked worse than he did now, and the fact that they were at different points of healing meant they hadn't be sustained in one injury, but through ongoing abuse. When he'd tapped on the window and she'd looked his way...her eyes were grey...dead, and he could see just how pale and drawn she was. And it was more than Beth not recognizing him, it was like she didn't even see him, turned away like he wasn't even there. When he knocked on the window again, more urgently, Beth saw him, recognized him, and her face and eyes came to life, but she was broken...badly hurt. As she tried to come to the window, she'd clung to her sides, doubling over, unable to stand. It broke him.

Daryl wanted nothing more than to bust through that window, guns blazin', taking out every fucking person in that church and carrying Beth out of her living hell. But he didn't...he couldn't...Rick and Carl were going in. Their lives were in his hands too. The only thing he could take comfort in was the knowledge that none of these pricks were ever gonna hurt her...lay a hand on her again. He'd signaled for Beth to remain still and silent, and she had enough sense about her to listen.

Now, Daryl's hands were clenched so tight his fists were shaking, his fingers were turning white, and his knuckles were cracking open again. The pain was good...distracting. It kept him grounded and alert.

_Another deep breath...exhale..._

People were gonna die...there was gonna be blood...and pain...

Daryl opened his eyes again. The light was fading fast. It would be time soon. He crept around the church, hunkered low, hand against the wall to keep proximity, determined to find his point of entry.

* * *

Beth forced herself back to her designated place in the front pew, praying that no one saw her move or caught a glimpse of what happened at the window. She closed her eyes tight, trying to breathe deeply. She was feeling short of breath, and she refused to let herself die now...not now. He was alive, and so close! Part of her that had lost all hope tried to convince her that it was all a dream...Daryl was dead. Beth would have been inclined to believe it was a dream, but her hallucinations were mercifully free of pain. There was pain now...a lot of pain...but she wanted it...it meant it was all real.

She was sick...that and the pain left her unable to focus on more than one thing at a time. As Beth let go of the pain, she heard a friendly commotion in the church behind her.

"Welcome friends. All are welcome here in the sanctuary that is the Lord Our God's house." Allerton's voice...would she never be able to escape him? Soon. She would escape him soon, one way or another...

Suddenly, Beth made the connection in her head. _Welcome friends_. That meant new people! She turned around, slow so as not to draw attention to herself or cause more pain; she had to see.

Rick and Carl...they were there, plain as day. Rick saw her, caught her eyes with his, holding them. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Rick and Carl were in the church...Daryl was outside. Her family cared enough to come for her...risk their lives for her. Daryl...she should have never questioned, even for the smallest moment, why he'd come...he'd been willing to die for her. She thought he did. He was apparently still willing to fight for her, die for her. And she was willing to fight for him, live for him. She may die another day, but not today. Beth was determined to make it out alive! And when Daryl struck with Rick and Carl, Allerton would have no idea what hit him..._Hell hath no fury_...

* * *

Beth sat still on the edge of the bed, trying to remain calm. She'd been brought back to her prison, the door locked behind, and the only thing she could do was wait...try to fight the anxiety over who was going to come through that door...Allerton, Rick and Carl...Daryl...She would go to Daryl if she could break down the door, but even if she wasn't sick, she would've never had the strength. All she could do was wait. Her fever was getting higher. She could feel the lightheadedness and blurry reality that always came when a fever was high. Beth managed herself to the table where the pills and her pitcher of cool water were kept. She touched each of the orange bottles gingerly. Neither had a label, just a name she wasn't able to recognize crudely scribbled across the bottle in black marker. One was to kill the pain, one helped her sickness...she couldn't risk taking the wrong one...the pain killer that dulled her senses and made her sleepy. She needed her wits about her...she needed to be awake, now more than ever. Instead she grabbed the Tylenol bottle, pouring out the pills in her hand, downing them with cool water that felt cold to her now since her temperature was rising.

Beth had to get back to the bed before she fell and did more damage. She made it just to the end of the bed, clinging to the metal bars of the footboard for support as her knees crashed against the cold, hard floor. She didn't feel it. Once again she was moving past the point of feeling anything. Bringing her hand to her forehead, she wiped away the beads of sweat before pulling herself to her feet and making it onto the bed...just before the door opened, was immediately closed, and locked behind.

"My Angel looked very beautiful tonight, as if the Lord Our God's holy light was shining down on her." Allerton laid his hand against her cheek when he reached her side.

Beth felt the strong instinct to flinch. Though his hands were now gentle, they so easily brought pain and damage...but she stopped...didn't give into instinct. Even though her fever was climbing, she was lucid, fighting to remain awake and alive. Allerton couldn't know that. Her face burned where his hand rested over the fading bruises. The pain was gone, but the memory remained.

"Your fever is high again...you must have your medicine. God wills you to live."

He went to the table where the bottles rested. She couldn't take them, so she lied. It came so easily.

"I already had them, when I got back. I was feeling poorly." Beth thought that in this state of high emotion...physical excitement...knowing Daryl and Rick and Carl were there to rescue her...it would be hard to keep her voice timid and unaffected, but there was no need to mask. Her voice came out weak and tremulous.

"Pills...pills won't do tonight..." Allerton's voice was uneasy now. "Our congregation has grown. We have new faithful among us. We wouldn't have them disturb Our angel's rest."

_We...Our..._Was he speaking of himself as one with God now? Beth was terrified. Was he suspicious of Rick and Carl or had he just lost it entirely? It didn't matter...when he turned, she saw her death in his hands...the syringe filled with the sedatives that would be her end in her condition.

"Please...no...I'll die..." Beth begged as he approached her slowly.

"We won't let you die..."

"Please...I don't want to die!" She raised her voice. She didn't know she had it in her.

Allerton grabbed her arm, squeezing tight. Beth fought, broke away with the last surge of energy she had, falling to the floor where Allerton loomed over her. If there was any justice in the world, God would strike him down. She was so close...so close to Daryl...so close to finding her way home to him...she couldn't...she just couldn't die now.

"No...no...please!" Beth screamed.

"Beth!"

It was Daryl...it was him!

"Daryl...Daryl!"


	9. Chapter 9: He Who Fights With Monsters

~Author's Note: Hey guys, here is you're new chapter! Hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone who is reading. I appreciate you all. You're awesome!~

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Daryl was fucking done waiting. He'd found his likely point of entry at the back of the church...where he assumed Rick would let him in. Returning to his window after the congregation had cleared out and the two guards were at sentry again at the front gate, he saw the mad priest was still deep in discussion with Rick and Carl. He would move now. He wouldn't leave Beth in there another minute. He would slip in, nice and quiet like, find Beth, secure her, then go help Rick and Carl deal with the fucker who hurt Beth. They probably wouldn't need his help, but there was no way this was going down without him feeling the warmth of blood on his hands.

He sat beside the back door, waiting, listening. He thought at one point he heard footsteps pass by. Then...it could've been his heart...the heavy, rhythmic, solid beating that was becoming all encompassing. Fuck...he couldn't tell the difference. He waited either way. If it was a person, he didn't want to lose his advantage of going in unseen, unnoticed. The door was unlocked. Apparently when you were cocky enough to believe you had God on your side, there was no reason to have to protect yourself. It couldn't be further from the truth. Daryl hadn't been raised on religion, but he'd picked up some things along the way...even remembered a few verses 'cause they fit his shitty life or he wanted to apply them to his existence.

_God helps he who helps himself._

He'd been helping himself his entire life...maybe now...well, it didn't matter who was on his side...he was goin' now.

There was no one in the hall. Everything was white and sterile, the walls, the floors...only softened by the oil lamps that lit the corridor. People may have read it as heavenly or pure, but to Daryl, it just looked like a prison. That's exactly what it was...a prison...a hell for Beth...

It was either right or left down the hallway...all he had to do was choose...

"Please...I don't want to die!" That was Beth...he wasn't imagining.

Daryl ran to the right...the direction of the plea.

"No...no...please!" She was frantic. He was frantic. He wasn't gonna be too late...

"Beth!" He shouted. His yelling might bring every person in the compound down on them...but he didn't give a flying fuck. He'd kill 'em all. Beth had to know he was coming for her so she would hold on...keep fighting.

"Daryl...Daryl!" The terror in her voice was joined by frantic hope.

He didn't even try the door to see if it was locked. Daryl just set his shoulder against the wood, sending the panel door splintering open. Beth was on the floor, the man in robes standing over her turned towards him. Daryl didn't take time to assess the situation or the man, just cracked his skull with the butt of his bow, sending him crashing to the floor, unconscious. His first instinct was to stomp his skull, but Daryl put aside that need for instant gratification. He was gonna kill him...just not yet. He wasn't gonna get to go that easy...not after what he'd done to Beth.

Beth...she was there on the floor in front of him...alive...against all odds. Daryl was so struck that he didn't know what to do. She stared up at him with the same disbelief. They'd seen each other through the window...but this...this was real. Daryl was afraid to move, afraid to go to her or touch her...if he did, she would disappear and the dream would be over. But he couldn't not. He had to. Daryl knelt on the floor, fought his instinctual need to grab her...he didn't know what she'd been through...he knew it was bad, just because of what he could see. She might not even wanna be touched...want him near her. This was all his fault, everything...she had to know that...hate him for it. Maybe he should wait for Rick. Rick hadn't failed her. Maybe she would rather find comfort in him.

But then Beth brought her hands up to her mouth, staring at him until the tears came, burying her face in her hands. Daryl didn't know what in the hell to do until she met his eyes, reached out her hand, barely touching his chest, seeing if he was real. After that, Daryl couldn't wait. He grabbed her, pulled her hard to his chest. Beth let out a small squeak of pain, crying against him.

She was hurt...shit, he knew that...he'd seen her pain earlier. What kind of brutal prick was he, hurting her just 'cause he wanted to hold her. Daryl freed Beth.

"No...Daryl...please..." Beth's words were broken, but clear. "Don't let go..."

His name on her lips...it was everything...all the promise...all the reassurance he needed...

Daryl promised himself he would never let go again.

Her hands were clenching the shirt at his chest, her balled fists fighting the pain to embrace whatever she was feeling, allowing herself to be held. Daryl buried his face in her hair feeling her breathing shallowly against him. It wasn't all about her. He needed the comfort of her body too, maybe even more than Beth did. That was selfish, but he couldn't always be strong. She was so warm...Daryl wanted to soak in Beth's warmth, her light...she had everything he needed.

"Beth...I promise...I'll never leave you again..."

He didn't want to, but he had to release her. Daryl had to deal with the evil that was rising off the floor. In one swift motion, Daryl had his crossbow back in hand, threw the prick against the wall, and aimed straight and true, pinning him to the white wooden wall panels with a bolt through the shoulder. The preacher didn't cry out, didn't make any noise at all...only brought his hand up, touching the bolt sprouting outta his shoulder, starring at him in disbelief. Daryl was feeling obliging. He reloaded and gave him another reason to marvel at him, sending a bolt through the man's other shoulder. He turned away, fighting his rage, his need to slice the monster to pieces, tear him limb from limb. What would Beth think of him if he did that? Would she think he was a monster? She was sitting on the floor, watching him, not judging him...waiting...maybe for him to exact vengeance. He would give that to her, but he decided he couldn't make her watch him torture someone, and they needed to get out anyway...he didn't have the time.

Daryl went for his hunting knife, holding eye contact with Beth...waiting for something from her. She nodded her head.

"Your wings...you disguise them so beautifully in the mortal world...but I see, I know what you are. The Lord Our God has given Us the gift, the ability to see what others cannot. You are of Heaven." _What the Fuck._ The voice was so calm, but he was delusional. There was nothing lucid about him. This fucker was driven by pure madness.

And what was he talking about wings? Then Daryl realized, his vest. He thought he was an angel?! Daryl turned slowly, freeing his knife.

"I know what you are...her brother...an angel sent from the Lord Our God to verify the welfare of his gift to Us. I assure you that We have treated her well, as she deserves to be treated...with the utmost respect and love."

Daryl took a step closer, balling his free fist, biting back his urge to act. It was gonna be slow, this death, and if he lost control, it would be over too soon. _We've treated her well, as she deserves to be treated_. Beth was beaten and broken...Daryl exhaled. He couldn't change the past...

"Are you the messenger Gabriel, bringing Us word from God...no...look at you, bathed in blood and glory. You are the warrior Michael, sent to protect Us...aid Us in Our holy quest."

Daryl was close enough now, so close that he leaned forward, only needing to whisper for his victim to hear.

"I'm Death."

Daryl felt the hot blood flooding over his hand where it gripped the hilt of his knife. He'd heard that if blades were sharp enough and inserted precisely and slowly, the person might not even feel it or their body sense it until the knife was removed. Daryl's knife was always razor sharp, and he'd slid it in as carefully as a man might enter his lover for the first time...not that he'd ever had a lover. It was a gut wound...the man didn't know it or feel it yet, but he was dead already...his death would be slow and agonizing. And Daryl had accomplished something even better. He'd dealt this man his death without subjecting Beth to more horror and blood than she'd already experienced. She wouldn't see him as a monster. The man looked in his eyes like he didn't understand what Daryl said, but he'd understand shortly. Daryl stepped back, carefully withdrawing his blade. The false prophet let out a grunt and groaned in pain, starring down with disbelief at the wound in his gut where his life was seeping out. He tried to grab at, cover the wound with his hand, but the bolts pinning his shoulders prevented any such action.

Looking down, Daryl could feel the rage boiling inside...he was losing the composure he'd been so carefully maintaining.

"The Angel of Death...I shall die and be reborn in the grace of the Lord Our God..." He coughed, sputtered.

Daryl could feel the blood that had spattered warm against his face. He made no move to wipe it away. Why? It was his kill. He watched as the crimson trickle leeched out of the corner of the preacher's mouth as death really and truly set in.

"No angel...just Death." Daryl stepped forward, closer again, shoving his fingers into the open wound at the man's gut.

He needed to feel the death more intimately...after what had been done to Beth. He screamed this time...shrieked in agony as Daryl probed the sliced flesh. It was what he deserved, but Daryl needed it to stop...didn't need to draw anyone down on them...although they were probably used to ignoring screams. Daryl clenched his eyes tight, imagining all the times Beth had screamed for help, pleaded while she was being beaten or...no one came to help her. He pulled his bloody hand from the stab wound, pressing it tightly over the fucker's mouth. The screams stopped, and the breathing became more labored.

"I wasn't born an angel...She wasn't born an angel neither!" Daryl pointed back towards Beth with his bloody blade. "But she was mine, and you stole her! Soon you'll die."

"Daryl..." It was Rick.

"Beth..." That was Carl. "She's burning up..."

Daryl turned to see Carl on the floor beside Beth, Rick in the doorway holding a stranger with his knife to his throat. Everything was blurry...was this what they meant when they said blinded by rage?

"Carl, get the door," Rick ordered.

He watched as Carl went and pushed the splintered door closed the best he could. Daryl scooped Beth up in his arms. He tried to be careful...she was hurt...he didn't want to hurt her more. But she didn't cry out, she didn't writhe in pain against his arms, she didn't move at all...she was limp, cradled against his chest. Everything was moving so slowly. He laid Beth on the bed. She was so still. She couldn't be dead...not now.

"Carl, the guns..." He barely heard Rick.

He heard the voices, sensed the movements, everything was blurred...moving so slowly, but at the same time, his instincts were overdrive. It made no sense. It was all too much of a contradiction. Daryl swung around defensively when he felt Carl grab at Rick's holster at his hip. He'd known it was coming, but he was driven by something much more primal than rational. Carl stepped back giving him space. Daryl unbuckled the gun belt holding Rick's Python and pulled Carl's gun from his waist, passing them to the kid so he could focus on what mattered. Beth. She was out cold, her hair clinging to her face. He brushed her hair back, smearing blood on her forehead. The red was even deeper against her skin that was now far too pale. Her burning brow was drenched with sweat. Daryl realized, when he'd been holding her, feeling her warmth, it was fever. Beth wasn't just beaten and broken...she was sick too...

"Let's start this again..." He heard Rick in the background.

"I told you...I'm a doctor. I was coming to check on the girl..." The voice was unfamiliar, but it carried the familiar hint of fear.

"Beth...Beth...Wake up..." Daryl spoke softly to her, shaking her gently, trying to get her to respond, leaving bloody handprints on the shoulders of her white dress. He couldn't wake her.

"Don't shake her. She's severely hurt." Was someone talking to him?

Daryl turned from where he sat beside Beth on the bed to stare down the bastard who presumed to tell him what to do. Rick had him at gunpoint now, Carl stood guard at the door. Then it registered with him..._I told you...I'm a doctor_...

"What am I supposed to do for her?" His voice came out sharp and desperate.

"Get the water from the pitcher on the table. Try to cool her face and neck with it. Don't get her too wet. She'll get a chill, and that will just make it worse."

Daryl moved into action, going to the pitcher, dipping his red bandana in it, watching the water turn red from the blood that stained his hands.

"When she wakes up, try to get her to take one pill from each of those orange prescription bottles."

Well shit...he could've told him that before he went and ruined the water. At least there was a partially full glass beside the pitcher. Daryl gathered up everything, returning to Beth's side. He took his soaked bandana, laying it across her fevered brow.

"Beth...Beth...please...come on...wake up..." he spoke loud enough for only her to hear.

"What's wrong with her?" He heard Rick ask. Daryl didn't want to hear, but he had to listen.

"She has broken ribs, not just cracked, displaced. I don't know if they started out that bad, but the beatings made everything worse. Her lack of ability to breathe properly because of the breaks and the pain brought on the pneumonia and allowed it to set in deep."

Daryl clenched his eyes tight, breathing deep, trying to hold it all together...for Beth. He let the cool water drip down onto Beth's neck and chest, following softly, wiping away the rivulets tinted by blood with the wet bandana.

"Beth...please...please come back to me...don't leave me..." He was broken. If they heard what he said, he couldn't give a fuck. All that mattered was that she heard.

"Will she live?" Daryl went still when he heard those words come outta Rick's mouth. He wanted to throttle him for even asking...but Daryl waited to hear the doctor's answer...

There was none...no answer that he could hear. The doctor must've shook his head. Daryl knew what that meant...he wasn't stupid, just broken. He grabbed Beth's hand, brought it up and pressed it against his face._ Please Beth...please..._He was too late again...Sophia...Merle...Hershel...but this time...Beth...his failure...this would be the end of him. Her hand in his, so soft and small...fragile. Maybe it was kinder...her pain was close to its end. But it wasn't kinder for him. Never was. Life was a cruel bitch. He was so tired of fighting...for what, more pain?

* * *

~Author's End Note: I realize that I ended this chapter in a really weird place. I wasn't meaning for it to be a cliff hanger or anything. When I do cliff hangers, I tend to try to make them worth it (and those of you who read my other Daryl and Beth fiction know I love my cliff hangers!). I am kind of torn...this chapter was meant to be longer...but I went really violent with the last portion of it that I decided not to post yet. I am fighting myself on the next portion because of the violent content. I like it, my gut says that I should go with it because I feel that it is well done, and I usually am not confident about what I write, but I want to sit on it and think for a while to make sure that I make the right decision! I know I said this story would be dark...I just don't want to go too dark and offend anyone. Just thought I would apologize for the awkward end of this chapter, and give anyone interested an idea about where I was with it.~


	10. Chapter 10: Still My Heart

~Author's Note: **To start, everyone should be aware that this chapter is going to contain a descriptive violent sequence.** I guess the severity of that violence is different based upon everyone's own point of view, but this is a **warning** because it is** more violent than anything I have ever written in this story or "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" if you read that one**. Just for anyone who might be worried, this violent sequence doesn't include Beth or anything violent being done to her. I noted in my last chapter that I was concerned about the level of violence in this section and wanted to sit on it for a while. I actually enlisted my guy to read it to help me with my struggle, and while one portion remained almost entirely the same, another portion was taken in an entirely different direction, not because of the violence but because of the principle it represented (I will tell you what I changed in an end note just incase anyone is interested in the process that I went through). Anyway, I really don't think after re-reading this that it is super disturbing, I may have been overreacting to my own writing. The male perspective in my life didn't see my problem with it! Also, I wanted to note about this chapter and the last chapter, that even though it may seem like a lot of time is passing and Daryl, Beth, Rick, and Carl need to get out of there ASAP, not that much time has gone by since Daryl busted through that door and was reunited with Beth. I have been writing this very vividly from Daryl's POV as he is experiencing it, and time is moving slowly for him in these very violent and stressful moments. Finally, I wanted to thank all of you who commented on my writing and told me to go ahead with what I originally had written for this portion. I appreciate it, and at this point, personally, I am really glad that I stuck with my original idea and kept its integrity in this chapter. As always, thanks for reading, and I hope that this chapter, even if a bit violent, was enjoyable in relation to the story I am creating for Daryl and Beth.~

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"Being honest, I don't know why or how she is still alive. I was brought in four days ago for the first time to treat her. I knew there wasn't much chance. Truthfully, I wished that she would die because of...what's been done to her. That's no life. She lost consciousness the same day. I didn't think she'd wake up, but she did, yesterday afternoon. She seems to be fighting for some reason. When I first saw her, she asked me to let her die. Now, I think she wants to live."

_I'm not Michonne. I'm not Carol. I'm not Maggie. I survived, and you don't get it 'cause I'm not like you or them. But I made it..._

That was reality. Beth was a fighter, a survivor. She was fighting her battle to stay alive. If she wanted life, Daryl would be her strength. He would fight the battles she couldn't until he died...until she took her last breath. Daryl knew that to do that, to be there for Beth, he had to get it together and keep it together. There was just this one thing left. This one thing he was gonna do...let himself go. Daryl placed her hand gently on the bed beside her, leaving her so he could put to rest the one other thing that was occupying his attention. He drew his knife again, approaching the dying body pinned to the wall. Before it had been about pain and drawing out the suffering. Now it was just about destruction. Ending it.

The preacher groaned as Daryl neared him. Had he lost faith in God? Was he afraid? Daryl hoped he was afraid. He thought about how afraid Beth must've been, but she fought...fought through everything that was inflicted on her. She fought through hell. He paused, not because he was thinking anything deep or needed the moment but because he wanted the fear to set in deep. This man, this false prophet, had to know now that he was dying, but fear...he needed to be much more afraid.

"I...I see you...now..." he coughed, spitting more blood down his chin "see you're from Hell...Satan's angel testing me...my faith."

Daryl was intimately close now, knife in hand, an extension of his fury, pain...

"I told you already...I ain't no angel. I'm just a man. But I'm your death. Have your faith. I don't give a fuck. But her...Beth...you picked the wrong man to fuck with!"

This time there was no skill or precision, no method to his madness. Stabbing, ripping, slicing, gouging at his gut...

"Oh my God..." That was the stranger...the doctor.

"Stop. I have no problem shooting you." That was Rick. Did the doctor wanna run from the carnage? Didn't matter.

Daryl just had to let it all out. While he'd given up skill, now he gave up variety, just stabbing, plunging his blade into the body over and over and over again. It wasn't really even stabbing anymore. The gut was such a ruin, just hanging bloody viscera, that the only real resistance Daryl was hitting was the wall behind, random ribs, and the spine. He should stop. It would ruin his knife, but he couldn't.

"Jesus Daryl...he's dead..." It was Rick again. Rick missed the point. It wasn't about the bastard being dead or not, it was about vengeance. It was for Beth, and for him.

It was harder...his next cut...cut through bones. He'd slaughtered animals all his life...knew it wasn't easy. It was a hard job. A man's job. This was no different. Daryl could've reached under the ribcage, but he needed this physical brutality and the effort he was forced to put into it. He just needed to feel more. He had to turn his knife, use the handle to crack at them, break them through all the way, pounding and hammering. Daryl reached in with his hand, snapping the sawed and broken ribs back, feeling the sting of his hand being cut by the sharp edges of the cracked and splintered bones while blood seeped into his wounds. Finally, he'd made enough space for his hand and knife to fit into the chest cavity. He sawed and cut and pulled until finally, his prize was free, warm and slick in his hand. Daryl sheathed his bloody knife as he stared down at the heart, panting and worn from the effort. It wasn't a clean job. It had been hacked and gouged, but there it was. He'd ripped it out. Daryl let out a sigh, letting go. This was what had been done to him the night Beth was kidnapped...his heart was torn from his chest. The difference was, his heart had still been beating, and he'd been alive to feel the pain after.

This cut...it sated his need for retribution...but if it had been the first, there would've been no pain...no suffering...no fear. He needed all of those things too, and Beth deserved them. She knew what he was gonna do when she'd been sitting on the floor, watching him before she passed out. She knew what he was capable of...what he would be driven to, and she nodded her assent. She wouldn't judge him. Daryl just hadn't wanted her to see him like this, wanted to spare her the blood. Daryl stared at the heart in fascination, not really seeing it but seeing what it represented. All the complexities of humanity. The human heart, it couldn't have weighed more than ten or eleven ounces, but it bore such a heavy burden. His heart, the pain it suffered, the hate it harbored, he didn't know if it would ever recover. But then, he remembered what his heart had felt before Beth was stolen, the ache that wasn't bad-he just didn't fully understand it, the need, the feelings he'd never experienced before. If this day was behind them, he would feel that again with Beth. But would she love him, allowing his heart to feel even though the guilt would never go away?

He'd gone too far though. Daryl was drawn out of his trance by someone puking up their dinner behind him. Must've been the doctor...and if the doctor couldn't handle it...either he wasn't much of a doctor or Daryl had made a massacre of the situation. He looked down at his hands cradling the heart, spare bits of flesh, some his, some not, and pieces of guts clinging to him. Butchered sections of intestines spilled out of the ruined gut like slimy pale snakes while other remnants swam in a puddle of blood on the cold floor. Daryl was coated in blood. He didn't need a mirror to know that. He could feel it...taste it.

"Carl...watch him..." Rick told his son. Rick...Rick was still there. He could hear Rick approaching. "Daryl, are..."

There was apprehension in Rick's voice. His words were calm though, carefully measured. Rick was testing the waters, seeing what kind of state he was in.

"I'm fine Rick." Daryl let the heart drop carelessly to the ground where it plopped in the congealing blood. The heart itself had no meaning. It was the act of ripping it out that mattered.

"We need to get Beth out of here." Rick wasn't tellin' him nothing he didn't already know.

Daryl turned away from the carnage, and Rick stared at the bloody mess he'd made of himself but didn't turn from him. Now they'd both seen each other at their bloodiest...the level of brutality each was willing to resort to when it came to their family, the people they loved. There was no reason to hide from it or be ashamed. This was their world, survival of the fittest and those they were willing to protect. Daryl stopped beside Beth where she lay unconscious on the bed, but she was breathing. He reached down gently laying his hand against her forehead. She felt much cooler. He left blood in her hair and on her skin and tried to wipe it away with his bandana that was now soaked in blood from his hands. He calmly turned to the pitcher on the bedside table, dipping the bandana in the water and wringing it out to rinse the blood. Daryl wiped his own face with it, trying to wash away the blood of his victim. When she woke up, he didn't want her to see him like this...not Beth.

Beth stirred a little, and Daryl was instantly turned to her. Screw the blood that covered him; he would worry 'bout how he looked later. Beth's eyes weren't open, she wasn't really awake, but he took the pills, forcing them into her mouth. He slid his hand behind her back gently lifting her, letting the glass of water rest against her pale lips.

"Beth, drink." Whether it was instinct that moved her or she actually heard him, it didn't matter. She swallowed, and he laid her back down so she could rest against the bed again.

She was covered in blood now. His blood, the blood on his hands, the blood dripping from his body. Blood. There was just so much blood. Why did their world have to be filled with so much blood...but it wasn't her blood. The dress was ruined...didn't matter...but red against the purity of the white dress, her pale skin covered in the striking crimson...Beth's purity, goodness, and light ruined by the horrors of the world. He was supposed to protect her. It was his one job, and he'd failed. Daryl's actions tonight, the blood, he'd stained Beth. He could see those stains, and they were the kind that could be washed away. The other stains, what had happened to her 'cause he hadn't been man enough, strong enough to protect her and keep her safe, those stains they would both have to live with for the rest of their lives. There was no washing those away. Beth would never be the same. He had the blood of her innocence on his hands.

All this blood and a haunting image came rushing back to him. In his dream...Beth had been in a bed of blood. Her hair was bloody, she was bloody, dying, all because of him. That nightmare...it couldn't be coming true...he refused to let it happen that way. This wasn't how they ended. They hadn't even started.

It was time to go.

"Just the two guards on the gates?" Daryl heard when he tuned back into the world. At least Rick was asking the right questions.

"Yes, that's the only way in and out. You'll just have to find a way around them." The doctor eyed him anxiously as Daryl stood from the bed. _Through them more like_, Daryl thought to himself. There would no doubt be more blood before the night was over.

The doctor looked more nervous 'bout him standing up than the gun Rick had pointed at him. Daryl couldn't have said it was a mistake though. He shoved the two prescription bottles in his pockets before approaching Rick. That was when the snarling and hissing started, his attention drawn back to his kill on the wall that had just turned.

"You going to handle that?" Rick questioned.

"Som'bitch wanted to be resurrected. Got his wish." Daryl watched in odd fascination as the walker struggled against the bolts pinning it to the wall.

The bolts. He needed his bolts. Daryl went back to the wall, ripping one of them out of the flailing flesh. The walker was still pinned. Daryl wasn't willing to waste two bolts, but one was well worth it to leave this very clear message to the false prophet's followers. If they wanted eternal life through the means he preached, Daryl would willingly give it to them.

"You have to hit me before you go. Leave a mark so no one wonders why I didn't raise the alarm."

This person, after everything his leader had done to Beth, no one in the group caring enough to stand up and make it stop...help her in the smallest way, and he was worried 'bout saving his own skin? The request made something in Daryl snap again.

He would give him a mark. He'd bash his skull in. Daryl charged forward so quickly that the doctor didn't even see him coming, didn't even have the chance to cower away. But Rick, that was a different story. Daryl slammed hard into Rick's shoulder as he moved to block Daryl's assault on the man who'd been asking for it. His anger was off the charts, adrenaline coursing through every part of him, but it was Rick.

"Daryl, you'll kill him," Rick informed him calmly. But that was the whole point.

Daryl didn't back down, still pressed against Rick. He wouldn't move against Rick, wouldn't fight him over a kill, but he sure in the hell wasn't gonna give. Not this time.

Rick stepped aside, spreading his arms wide, showing he wouldn't stand in Daryl's way. That was when Daryl realized Rick hadn't been stopping him to protest his actions, judging him 'cause he wanted to kill. He was just stopping him, in his moment of rage, to make sure he knew what he was about to do. Rick knew him enough to know that if he hit the stranger, he would go all the way and kill him.

Daryl took a deep breath.

Rick nodded his head. "Beth's my family, but what she means to you...I won't stand in your way."

He'd tried to help her. Maybe this man was the reason Beth was still alive. That bought him his life. Rick watched carefully as Daryl dropped his shoulders, reading his decision. He didn't see it coming. Neither did the doctor, but Daryl heard the crunch against the man's head as Rick pistol whipped him, and he crashed to the floor. They were going now.

Daryl was heading to retrieve Beth when he heard Carl. He'd almost forgotten he was with them. And he'd seen what Daryl had done without making a peep. That was one tough kid.

"Dad, I think these are Beth's clothes. Should I get them?" It was the most random question that could be asked in their situation, but maybe Carl needed to focus on something besides the carnage.

"Carl, get the clothes, but if things go bad, drop them-don't worry about it," Rick replied. "Are you ready to move?" That one was directed at him.

"Yeah..." He'd never been more ready for anything in his life. "Hey Carl," he had the kid's full attention. "I'm gonna have Beth. You're gonna have my back, right?" It wasn't just a vote of confidence for Carl. If they were getting out alive, they all had to have each others' backs.

Carl nodded, but Daryl hadn't expected anything different.

Beth's eyes were opening when he leaned down to get her. He felt the sharp intake of her breath as he pulled her into his arms. She was awake and could feel everything, but she didn't cry out. She was strong, stronger than anyone ever gave her credit for.

"You came for me...am I dead?" Her voice was weak and thin, but it was so very beautiful just to hear her speaking again.

"I came for you. You're very much alive, and you're gonna stay that way." Daryl made his words confident, but he had to bite back emotion at the end 'cause he knew there was a very good chance he was lying.

If Beth died, he was done.

* * *

~Author's End Note: Okay, so the part that I changed was the part where Rick stops Daryl from attacking the doctor, and once Daryl has a chance to think on it, decides to let the doctor live. Originally, I had Daryl getting the doctor down on the ground starting to stab him before Rick pulls him off. After some consultation with my guy who pointed out that maybe Daryl should just think about going after him but not actually doing it because Daryl would be crossing the line of humanity since the doctor didn't hurt Beth but helped her instead, I decided to go in a different direction. By having Daryl charge, Rick stop him, giving Daryl time to think, Daryl exercised on his rage, showed how dangerous he was capable of being in regards to Beth, but didn't step over that line. In addition, Rick showed how much he understood Daryl and what he was feeling, and although he stopped him to give him time to think, he wouldn't stand between Daryl and what he thought he needed to do for his family. I actually think it turned out okay. So, that was a look inside my mind for tonight. Just thought I would share.~


	11. Chapter 11: What If This Storm Ends?

Two more slit throats didn't mean shit. What had been hard was putting Beth down on the ground with only Carl to watch her so he and Rick could deal with the guards. They didn't see 'em coming...had no idea what hit 'em. No alarm had been raised. No one paid any mind to the screams that had been coming from the church...that meant it wasn't unusual...that meant Beth...

"Daryl, the head," Rick reminded him.

Daryl was more than willing to let those fuckers turn, after the system they were a part of, but it did mean more walkers. He brought his booted heal down hard on his kill...one stomp and the brain was done. He should be feeling more satisfaction, but nothing. He just wanted to get Beth out...just Beth. It was all about her. Nothing else.

"She asked where you were," Carl whispered as Daryl knelt by Beth's side. She was going in and out of consciousness so she probably had no idea what was real or a dream.

"Beth...Beth, I'm here..." He pulled her back into his arms.

The sooner they got her somewhere warm, in a bed...Daryl didn't know if that would even matter. It would just be kinder...less pain.

Beth turned her head into his chest. He felt her hand come to rest over his heart.

"Daryl, please don't leave me. "

"God, Beth...I'm not gonna leave you ever again."

"Promise..."

"I swear."

* * *

"Daryl, give her to me."

It was like he was waking from some strange walking nightmare. He'd been following the slender beam of white light from Rick's flashlight beside the road, so focused on Beth, making sure he felt her breathing, the rest of the world didn't exist for him, and that was dangerous. When he focused, he realized they weren't moving any more...why had they stopped? Then he saw. The car. Had Rick said something? He was there, in front of him, arms reaching. He wanted Beth.

"No." Daryl stepped back, bumping into Carl. He wasn't letting her go for nothin'...

"Daryl, you need to give Beth to me. It's okay."

Rick...his brother. Daryl allowed Rick to take her outta his arms...hold what was his.

"Give the car keys to Carl."

Daryl dug in his pocket, passing the key ring to the kid.

"Get in the back seat."

Well, Rick's simple instructions were working. They were about the only thing he was capable of understanding. Daryl realized what was going on now. He took off his crossbow, handed it to Carl, then slid across the back seat. Rick leaned in, laying Beth down, Daryl cradling her head and shoulders in his lap. Maybe they had a chance now.

* * *

Beth was somewhere in between again. It was strange this time because she was feeling pain...it was muted but still there. And it was dark...so dark and cold. When she'd been with her Daddy, it had been light and warm and beautiful. She'd felt secure, and now she felt like she was moving, but she knew she wasn't. Maybe this was Purgatory...the real in between...dark and alone because she hadn't been good enough to make it to Heaven. Was this the road to Perdition? But then she felt warmth...someone warm cradling her. Her eyes were closed, but she could feel the tears welling. It was him. She didn't have to see him to believe. To know the truth. His breathing was so steady, his arms so strong, and he smelled like Daryl, wild, strong, dangerous, the mixture of sweat and blood and woods just seemed to be a part of who he was. There was a crack followed by a loud rumble in the background. She startled, feeling the pain more severely.

"Oww..." she couldn't help crying out.

"Shh, Beth...you're okay. I've got you. It's just thunder." His voice was soft and calming. It was so real.

She heard the rain start spattering around them, but it didn't reach them. Beth opened her eyes just as another flash of lightening split the sky beside them and illuminated his face. They were in a car-moving. Beth remembered that silent, sweaty, terrible night they'd spent in the trunk of a car together as the never ending herd of walkers kept coming and coming. She could feel him, hear his breathing, but they didn't speak, and the only times she'd been able to see his face were when the lightening from the storm that followed the walkers struck. He'd been so still and focused then, so intent, his crossbow aimed steady. He had to have known that one bolt from his crossbow wouldn't save them if they were found, but when she'd been at her breaking point, he'd lifted his hand away from the trigger of his bow, raising it to steady her, promise her that everything would be okay. She saw his face now. He was beaten, bruised, and cut, but he was alive...with her. That night in the trunk, she'd thought it was her last, impossible to survive. Every breath they took would be the final one. But the walkers finally passed, the storm cleared, and the morning had come. There had been so many impossible nights since then, sometimes she prayed every breath she took would be the last...but here she was, still breathing, with Daryl who she thought she'd lost. Maybe this storm would pass too. Would she live to see the morning come for them?

It was so dark, but she could make out the edges of his face, tipped down towards her. He was watching her. Beth needed to say it...while she had her wits...what she hadn't had a chance to say the last time they were torn apart.

"I know," she said softly, just for Daryl. She was coherent enough to know what she wanted to say and that if they were in a moving car, someone was driving.

Rick. Carl. She remembered now. They were there too.

"Know what?" Daryl was being so soft spoken with her...so calm. Was that what he was feeling, or was he pretending for her?

"What changed your mind." Daryl didn't say anything. Beth just felt him take a deep breath. Maybe Daryl thought she was delusional, but she was awake...her mind clearer by the moment. Or maybe he didn't remember. What if he didn't want to remember? "That night, in the funeral parlor," she just wanted him to say something...anything..."before the walkers..."

"I know...I remember," he cut her off softly. It sounded like there was pain in his voice.

"All I said was 'oh'...I should've..." Beth was going to get it out while she had the chance, before it was too late. She'd promised herself. "I..."

Another flash of lightening...the crack of thunder so close that the car shook rattling the windows. Beth clenched Daryl's arm tight.

* * *

Beth's breathing was shallow but steady. He couldn't say how long they'd been driving, but Rick was hitting all the same road blocks and bumps he'd ran into on the way in, so he knew they'd gotten absolutely nowhere, especially since it was full dark. Daryl was grateful Beth was out, where ever she was. She wasn't feeling any pain...all of the bumps, jolts, and rough off-road driving they were having to do just to move forward. But she was still breathing.

Then the storm hit. the lightening was so close that they could hear the crack, and for one tiny instant, the whole world was lit up. The thunder that followed made it feel like the earth was quaking around them. Daryl felt Beth jerk against him at the crack and boom, and his heart broke when she cried out in pain.

"Shh, Beth...you're okay. I've got you. It's just thunder." He tried to soothe her, gently brushing her hair back from her face.

Daryl was helpless. There was absolutely nothing he could do for her...do to make it better. There was no one for him to fight...no one and nothing at this point to kill. The rain came, and another flash of lightening illuminated the car enough that he could see her face, see her cradled in his arms. Her eyes were open; she was looking up at him. He couldn't look away...even when there was no more light and he could barely make out the shape of her face. Every moment he had...with her...he wouldn't waste it.

The world had stolen almost everything they had. The rest that he had with Beth...it was his...no matter...no matter how short the time.

"I know."

Beth's words caught him off-guard. Maybe she was talking in her fever dream. But the words had been solid, just quiet.

"Know what?" Daryl kept his voice low, to make sure nothing jarred her and because of Rick and Carl. There was no way to keep whatever was going to be said private, but that didn't mean he couldn't keep it intimate.

"What changed your mind." Daryl's heart seized, and a shuddered breath followed.

He had no words. That night...that night, before his world fell apart, he'd tried to tell her. It'd all just happened so fast. One day, he was pissed at the world, pissed at her for making him go forward, keep moving on...he just thought she wanted her way, and then, after that night, the night with the moonshine, that night he'd shared all of himself...his past with her, and she helped him burn it all away. There was no going back. Before she was stolen, he thought she'd known, thought she understood what he felt, but he needed to man up and tell her. All she'd said was _oh_, so she didn't know despite what he'd assumed was obvious about what he was feeling, and he couldn't find the words then either. Now, here he was again. She was clearly awake.

"...that night, in the funeral parlor...before the walkers."

He felt like a prick for thinking instead of saying, forcing Beth to explain herself, think that he didn't remember the moment she was talking about when he played it over and over and over again in his mind.

"I know...I remember," he didn't give her a chance...let her finish her explanation. There was no need.

He could hear the pain in his own voice, just how affected he was by everything. What he'd thought he'd had that night...a future...a life full of...but that had been taken from him, and he'd spent every moment since hating himself for not being strong enough to protect her. Now, he had her in his arms...thinking he knew what she'd been through...what she'd suffered, but not knowing the full extent, helpless to do anything but wait until the end came to rip her out of his arms. Daryl was so afraid. He'd just gotten her back, but she wasn't his. Death was coming on dark wings, and while he could deal death, Daryl couldn't fight it.

"All I said was 'oh'...I should've...I..."

More thunder. More lightening. Beth flinched against him, reaching for him, gripping his arm. It was fear followed by pain, again things he couldn't fight for her.

"Rick, pull in the next driveway. It took me all day during the light. Driving in the dark ain't gonna do none of us any good. We need to find somewhere for the night."

If they got stuck somewhere in the dark, they'd be on foot. If the car was overrun by walkers in the middle of the night, they wouldn't stand a chance. And the truth was, if Beth was awake and stayed awake, he couldn't bear feeling her in pain with everything they hit on the road. Tomorrow, in the light of day, it might be the same shit, but after what had gone down, he just couldn't deal anymore. And Beth deserved a few moments with less pain, surrounded by people who loved her, not afraid, wondering when the beatings and abuse would start again.

Rick wasn't about to argue with him. He probably knew their night flight in a storm was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

In the dark of the car, Daryl couldn't see, but he could feel Beth moving against him. Still, he was surprised when he felt her cold hand come to rest against the side of his face. He didn't pull away though, not from Beth. Never. It was the nightmare again, where Beth had been dying in her bed of blood, except this time there was no blood on her hands for her to trail on his face. Instead, he was covered in the blood of the monster he'd killed for her. He brought his hand up to cover hers, wanting her to stay right there with him forever.

"Last man standing." Beth's voice was clear and soft.

Her words bit deep, straight to his soul. His fucking nightmare was becoming his reality. Maybe his love was a curse. Since his fate was to be alone, maybe the world would destroy everyone he loved until he accepted it. That was one of his fears. He always told himself he wasn't afraid of nothin', but he'd even called himself of that, through Merle in his dream. He was afraid of being alone. What if accepting his fate, choosing to be alone, would save the people he loved...give Beth her life back, the chance to live?

A rumble of thunder and the car coming to a stop brought Daryl back to reality. He still had Beth's hand, but they were now fingers intertwined, resting against his chest. Fuck fate. He'd been fighting for everyone else, bleeding his own blood for them since the beginning. If he was being punished for that, he would take whatever was thrown at him and fight it because he was on the right side. And now, he was going to fight for himself...fight for something that was all his...Beth. Every man needed to have a reason to believe, something to fight for, and she was his.

If Daryl's fate was to be the last man standing, so be it. But that fate didn't dictate he would be standing there alone, watching the world burn. Beth would be there, standing beside him, holding his hand. That was the way the world got him, or not at all.

* * *

Daryl was sitting on the floor beside the bed, back against the wall. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there. She could sense his presence. It had been the same with Brother Allerton, except when he was near, she was filled with fear, terror, defiance...with Daryl, it was something entirely different, warmth, safety, hope...love. Once again, they'd left their conversation unfinished. Daryl had brought her to bed, covered her in warm, heavy blankets, then stepped out into the hallway with Rick and Carl, talking in hushed voices. Daryl came back alone, finding his spot on the floor. They were alone. Did he think she was asleep? Or maybe he didn't have anything to say to her. He was tired, that was a given. The thing was, Beth was exhausted, but she was fighting it. Her mind was clear and alert. If she was dying, she wanted to be awake, spending her last moments with him.

"Daryl..." She said it just loud enough so that if he was sleeping he wouldn't be bothered.

"Beth..." He was sitting beside her on the bed before she even had time to consider what she was going to say next.

The storm was still raging, a clap of thunder reverberating around the room. Storms had always scared her when she was little, even when she got older. Well, truthfully, they still scared her, but she didn't let anyone know...and there were so many other things to be scared of in their world now...walkers...people...And in this moment, she wasn't scared, at least not because of the storm. Daryl was with her.

"Do you think you could find a candle?" She wanted to see him...see his face so she just didn't have to use her senses to feel him near.

She heard his lighter and then saw the flickering flame of a small candle on the nightstand. He was back, sitting beside her, looking down on her, just waiting.

"Did you mean it?" Seeing his face...that's what she wanted.

But his face was wrought with worry and pain. Still, he was with her. Beth knew he didn't know what she was talking about. And it seemed that now that they had a quiet moment together, she couldn't bring herself straight back to what she needed to tell him. She had to fix the _oh_ before she left.

"Did you mean it, when you said we could stay at the funeral parlor together...make a life there?" Every breath took her strength, but she needed to know.

"Umm-hmm..." Beth could see him nod too.

She felt him take her hand, his fingers lacing between hers...just like the first time he'd held her hand in the cemetery. Feeling how warm his hand was against hers, she realized just how cold she was. Her fingers were ice. It didn't matter anymore.

"I wish...I wish we could've stayed there..."

Daryl nodded his head again, but this time there were no words or even a sound. He was biting back something. He squeezed her hand he held in his lap too hard...it hurt...but she wouldn't say anything. Daryl was changed. He was covered in blood and gore and wounds of his own, but he was the Daryl who'd been with her when they were alone together. Beth would let him break every bone in her hand and not make a sound because he was with her...holding her hand...Daryl Dixon...in that moment, he was hers. There was a long silence as she watched Daryl in the faint light of the flame trying to gather himself.

"I'm takin' you home Beth..." his voice was low and raspy...like it was when he was trying to hide something...how he was feeling. "Everyone's waitin'...Maggie, Glenn, even Judith...all of 'em..."

They were alive? It made her happy, but it didn't change the truth.

"Daryl, I'm not going to make it back...you know that." He did, didn't he? He could see. And she knew. She was fighting it now...the exhaustion and pain making the darkness calling her all the more appealing.

"Don't say that Beth. This storm's gonna end, and tomorrow..." He didn't finish because he knew.

The thing was, even if she lived, even if she did make it back to the group, she would never really make it back...after everything. Maybe it was better this way...for her family to remember who she was, not who she became. That didn't make it easier though. She'd stopped being afraid of dying...but now...now that Daryl was beside her, holding her hand, so very real...she didn't want to die. Beth had been fighting so hard for a memory, a dream...maybe a hallucination that told her to fight for him when there had been so little hope of ever seeing him again. And here he was, and she had no more fight left. Beth felt the tears come. She hoped Daryl couldn't see. She didn't want him to think she was afraid...weak...crying for herself.

"Thank you, Daryl..." She still couldn't bring herself to what she needed to say. She knew it would be her breaking point...there were tears already...and that would be the end.

"No...I didn't do nothing'. It's all my fault." He looked away from her for the first time, and she could feel the hate he bore for himself, but there was no reason.

"...for taking me away from the prison, saving my life, being there for me, putting up with me when you were so pissed you didn't even know what to do..." Beth smiled at that one, through the tears. That Daryl hadn't been equipped to deal with some of the stuff she put him through "...for holding my hand, trying to give me something normal...and you came for me."

Daryl still wasn't looking at her, but she heard him choke back a sob.

"It's all my fault...everything...and you're the one gets punished for it..."

How differently they saw that night. Daryl blamed himself, but he was the one who told her to run while he drew the walkers away. He'd had no expectation of living. She knew that; how could he have? And she knew his life and safety hadn't even crossed his mind in those moments. The only thing he'd been thinking about was her. That was just who Daryl was.

"...I should be...be asking you to forgive me...but it's unforgivable..." He finally turned his face towards her again. In the candle light, it looked like he was crying tears of blood.

"I won't forgive you. There's nothing to forgive. Thank you..." Beth tried to force her tears away. She wanted to be strong for him, but she just couldn't pretend.

All Beth could think about was all the things that weren't meant to be. She'd kissed a boy, but she wanted Daryl to kiss her. Before the world went to hell and she'd still been very much a child, she'd wondered about sex in an odd and curious way, but she'd never even thought about going there with anyone...never wanted to...until those quiet moments she'd shared with Daryl just before their reality was shattered. She'd known then that she wanted it to be him...but that life was over. All she had was now...these last few moments while she lingered...to make it right.

* * *

Daryl cursed the world. He fought a losing battle with himself, and finally, the tears just came. He felt 'em burning hot tracks through the leftover blood on his face. There was no shame in his tears because he felt, but he turned away from her...didn't want her to see...He just wanted to be strong for Beth...it was just too damned hard. But her hand, he couldn't let it go.

And she'd thanked him...fucking thanked him...he couldn't protect her...couldn't saver her...and she still said _Thank you_. He had to tell her now because...the truth ripped his heart out...what was left of it. If she didn't hate him for his failure, maybe it would mean something. Maybe she possibly felt something too. She'd been trying to tell him something about that night...before she'd been taken and sentenced to death...

Daryl saw her tears. He reached to wipe them away, and she flinched from him. Her involuntary response, a response learned from pain...he knew it from his life...that broke what was left of him. She was broken too, but he couldn't fix her.

"I...I just wish there was more time..." Daryl was barely able to force the broken words outta his mouth. They weren't the words he needed to say, but he was getting there.

More time. He needed more time. He would give everything, everything he had, everything he was if she could have more time...time with him. Just more time...just a little more. Why would they let him find her just to rip her away again...

"The best things always end too soon, your favorite book, your favorite song, even your own life..."

What the fuck, she was goin' all poetic about death...death wasn't pretty, this wasn't some tragic story where the beautiful young heroine drifted off into oblivion, everyone smiling and holdin' hands 'cause she accepted her fate. She was too young...hadn't even seen twenty...too gentle...too kind, everything their world set out to destroy, and Beth was next in line. He couldn't stand it.

"...brevity is what makes those things beautiful...the best things always end too soon..." she ended where she began.

He put his head down, shaking it, clenching his eyes tight, trying to flush the tears out. It wasn't beautiful at all. He refused to accept it. Why was she giving up?

"What about...love..." His voice sounded hoarse and strained, but it was the best he could do in his state...the only way he could get it out. _Just say it God Damn it. This is the only chance...the only chance you'll ever have to tell her._

"Love?"

"Love..." Daryl could probably count the times he'd said that word on both his hands...and he sure in the hell had never said it about a woman. He'd been thinking it plenty though...about her.

"We bury our dead...but love...our love for them...their love for us...we can't leave it behind. We carry it with us...them with us...it's part...part of being alive..."

How was she so calm now when he was falling to pieces.

She was right though. He'd love her 'til the day they put his body in the ground. There would never be another.

"Beth...please fight...fight for me." It was selfish. Daryl knew it.

Beth was quiet. He could barely hear her shallow breathing over the heavy rain assaulting the roof.

"Beth, what I should've said...what I wanted to say that night..." Daryl stopped himself. This wasn't a time for pussyfooting around the subject, all the could'ves, should'ves, and wanted to's. It was time to be real. They both deserved that. He started over again. "Beth, I love you."

He heard a sob, her shuddering breath...she wasn't as calm as he thought. She was breaking too...but he'd said it and meant it. She knew now without the shadow of a doubt. Beth said that the living carried around the love of the dead...but was there somewhere after...a place where she would remember...know and feel his love? Or was it just now...in these short moments that she would have it. _It wouldn't kill you to have a little faith_. She had faith. Maybe it was enough to carry her through...not fearing the unknown...but his faith...it was gone before it ever really existed.

"Daryl...I...love you..." Beth's words were shaky. Barely a whisper.

His heart stopped. He almost wished she hadn't said it back. It was all too much, too hard. Daryl knew that he loved her...knew it deep down for what seemed like a long while. She deserved to hear...to know. Most of all, she deserved to be loved, maybe not by the likes of him, but she deserved it. Him...he never deserved her love in the first place...and now especially...he may not have struck the fatal blow, but he killed her all the same. Daryl accepted it though...her love...with everything he was.

He didn't know how to go about it. Daryl never really kissed women. Well...the few women who'd found themselves in his life for a few moments or so...they'd kissed him, but he always pulled away...that had never been part of his deal. It'd been about taking, not giving...and that was part of himself he'd never been willing to give. Hell, he didn't even wanna look at them, so face to face had never been his thing...he just didn't do it that way.

Daryl leaned down towards her slowly...didn't want her to be afraid...flinch away. Her lips were warm and so very soft when he found them. Her small cold hand came to rest on the back of his neck. And she kissed back...unsure and even more self-conscious than he was, but she kissed back. He was slow and gentle with his kiss, the only things that he knew that were right to do. This kiss...it was more than a first kiss should've been...especially with someone like him kissing someone like her...in the old world, it would've never happened...but he couldn't pull away...couldn't let her go. In their world now, it shouldn't be happening, but if this, their first kiss, was gonna be their last...it had to be worth it...


	12. Chapter 12: Stripped

~Author's Note: Here is your next chapter. Chapter 11 is a really hard act to follow...just saying! I poured my soul into that one. This one has its own merits though. Thanks to all of you who are reading! I hope you enjoy.~

* * *

Her body was limp in his arms. He'd told Rick if he didn't find her, he wasn't coming back. Daryl had found her, but it...The least he could do was bring Beth back to her family...what good that would do, he didn't know. He'd failed. Nothing he did, nothing he said or felt was enough. Morning had come, but the storm didn't pass this time. He could feel the cold rain on his face, saw Maggie running out the front door. She grabbed at Beth's limp hand. Was she cryin', or was that just the rain? Daryl didn't have words for her...but at least he'd tried. He pushed past Maggie into the house.

"Beth...is she dead?" Maggie's voice came from right behind him, desperate and frantic. He couldn't answer her. He didn't know how.

Daryl climbed the stairs, not stopping, not paying attention to anyone or anything around him. He just wanted to lay Beth down so she could...rest.

"She's not dead yet, Maggie," Rick answered for him. "Get some clean towels, water, any blankets you can find, anything that we might need. Bob, upstairs now," Rick delegated.

Rick was in get shit done mode. That was good because Daryl was too numb to do anything on his own. People listened to Rick. He always got the job done. By the time Daryl laid Beth down on the bed, Bob and Rick were in the bedroom. He sat down on the bed beside her. He didn't know what to do.

"What do we know?" Bob was on this, but Daryl was ready. He made one wrong move...Daryl even caught a whiff of booze on him, he'd snap his neck.

"Doctor said broken ribs, not just cracked, something else," Rick relayed what they knew.

"Displaced?"

"Yeah. He said something about her being beaten making it worse, and she got pneumonia."

"There was a doctor?" Bob seemed to have been a little late catching that one.

"Yeah. He was looking after her. Gave her some medicine. Said she'd been out for a couple days but woke up. He thought she was fighting."

_Fighting. Please fight now, Beth..._Daryl wasn't really sure if he just thought it or if the words came outta his mouth.

"Daryl..."

Daryl looked over his shoulder at Bob and Rick. Where they waiting for him to say something? Was there a question?

"Was she coherent when she was talking to you?"

"Yes." He nodded his head too, just to make sure they understood.

She'd been entirely awake and aware. It had been the most heartbreaking conversation of his life.

But it wasn't time to talk now. It was time for Bob to be doin' something useful

"When did she lose consciousness again?"

What with all the questions? They were wasting time...precious time...it was so fleeting...until he realized time was moving slower in his world. Maggie and Glenn were just now showing up on scene.

"This morning..." That was when she'd closed her eyes again even though he'd begged her to stay.

Maggie was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, beside Beth, very close to being in his space. She was frantic, crying...she was him from the night before. He was mad at Maggie for some reason, but he couldn't remember why. Did it even matter anymore?

"Beth...please...Beth...you gotta wake up..." Daryl watched Maggie, in his fog, until he snapped back into clarity, realizing what Maggie was doing.

"Stop...stop shakin' her," Daryl's voice was weak and raspy. He barely understood his words.

Maggie didn't listen.

"Beth...Beth...listen to me...we're all here...Beth..." her voice was loud, jarring, and she kept shaking Beth by a tight grip on the shoulders.

"I said stop shakin' her." He grabbed Maggie's wrists, jerking her hands away from Beth. Everyone heard him this time.

"No...no...let me go...Beth..." Maggie fought against him, but he wasn't letting go for nothing.

Rick came and pulled Maggie away from him to her feet.

"Glenn, take her out of here." Rick's voice was solid and final.

"No...Beth...she's my baby sister...no..." Maggie's voice faded as the door closed behind her.

"Daryl, you're going to need to move." Daryl glared at Bob before he stood, backing up only a step away from Beth. He might not like it, but Bob was probably the best chance she had. "Jesus...is all this blood hers?"

"Mine. Someone else's." He was numb. He didn't think any of it was hers. She was beaten and broken. He didn't think he could take blood being part of that mix.

Daryl watched Bob's every move. He grabbed a pair of scissors from the pile of crap Maggie left on the floor beside the bed before she was dragged out of the room. Bob cut the neckline of Beth's bloody dress, reached on each side, ripping it open. Daryl lunged...he didn't think...he just flew outta instinct...the need to protect her. Rick caught him from behind, mid flight, arms locked around his chest, but that didn't stop Bob from fallin' on his ass on the floor trying to put distance between them. Daryl was trying to get words out, but they were just growls and snarls like a rabid animal. He was fighting hard, struggling, anything to break free from Rick, but Rick was unrelenting.

"No...no...let me..."

"Daryl, stop. Now. Calm down."

"No...he can't..." Daryl felt hot tears on his cheeks. The anger was replaced with desperation. He was still fighting Rick, but his helplessness and Rick's steady strength were draining his...what little he had left. "He can't rip it...her dress...what if she was..." He couldn't even say the word. Thinkin' it was too painful. If that happened to her...he couldn't bear it...

"We just need to get her out of these wet, bloody clothes so she doesn't get colder and sicker, and so I can see what's wrong with her, how she's hurt," Bob explained softly, getting to his feet and backing further away from him and Rick.

Daryl tried to lunge again...he didn't really know why...guttural sounds escaping his throat. He was more wounded animal than man. He almost broke free from Rick...almost.

"I will put you out that door and lock it if you can't pull it together." Rick was dead serious. Daryl knew that much. "This is about Beth, not you."

Daryl clenched his fists tight, his hands shaking. He needed to hit something...anything.

"I know it hurts." Was that supposed to make him feel better?

"You don't know nothin'," Daryl spat back, but the fight was leaving him. He knew Rick was right. This was about Beth.

"I know plenty." Rick's reply was calm, and he kept Daryl restrained until he'd gone still.

"Please...just don't...don't rip her dress off..." Daryl's voice came out as a plea as Rick released him.

Bob nodded. "I'll be as gentle with her as I can," he promised as he went back to work on Beth.

He cut Beth's dress instead of ripping it, making no quick or sudden movements, glancing Daryl's way every few seconds. Bob was an army medic...knew how to work in volatile situations. When Bob stripped Beth's dress off, Daryl's soul was stripped bare. She was just laying there, barely covered in bra and panties. This wasn't how it was supposed to be...how he was supposed to see her the first time...he brought his palms up to his eyes, brushing the wetness away, not giving a shit what Bob or Rick thought. Her body was covered in green, black, and blue bruises. Her wrists were rubbed raw and bloody from what, being chained? Bob laid his head on Beth's chest, listening, then pressing at her sides and feeling...her rib cage...that was the worst...all purple with black and blue here and there.

"You're gonna hurt her," Daryl winced at the pressure Bob was applying.

Bob just ignored him.

"She can't feel the pain. She's not here right now," Rick assured him.

Bob reached around Beth's side, towards her back, feeling, then furrowing his brow. He pulled his had away, bloody. Was she bleeding? Was that her blood? It looked fresh and bright.

"Daryl, come here," Bob called. Daryl didn't hesitate. "Sit down. Take her, yes...hold her just like that so I can see."

Daryl cradled Beth against his chest, looking down to see what Bob saw. Horizontal slices running down the side of her back, some scabbed, some read and raw, some now broken open and bleeding. It wasn't enough for the bastard to beat her until she was broken. He had to mark her too...

"...seven...eight...nine..." Bob counted out loud. "Nine precisely inflicted lacerations. I don't think they need to be stitched, but...they'll probably scar."

So now, even if Beth beat the odds and lived, she was gonna be scarred for life on the inside and out...all his fault...all because of him.

"You got her for a minute Daryl, so I can clean and bandage her wounds?" That was a stupid question. He wasn't letting her go.

Daryl didn't remember Bob finishing with Beth's back or laying her down on the bed, leaving her side. He was standing in front of the dresser mirror, staring at his reflection. Bloody, beaten, black and blue, lethal, nothin' he didn't expect. Too bad mirrors didn't tell the truth of what was on the inside...show failure and weakness. Beth was scarred now. Her abduction was his fault, and now her scars...he couldn't run fast enough, track far enough, fight hard enough to spare her...never enough. And what about the wounds they couldn't see...would never know. What if they...took all of her...There were some fates worse than death...was that the reason she wouldn't fight now? She would've been helpless to stop it, forced to endure...helpless like he was...had been his entire life.

_"You ain't nothin'. You ain't never gonna be no one. You hear me boy?"_

_ Daryl was on his knees, brought his fingers up to his bloody lip where his old man's fist made contact. He packed a punch. Daryl did too, but he knew if he hit back, he was as good as dead. He heard his old man's belt unbuckle, being pulled through his belt loops. This time he used the buckle...the business end. He felt the prong of the buckle dig in deep and tear through the flesh of his back on the first lash. Daryl's hands went to the floor to brace himself, trying to grab at it, clench something...anything, but it was cold and unyielding...solid...what he needed to become to survive. He wouldn't cry out. He wouldn't scream. He wouldn't beg. Daryl wouldn't give his old man that satisfaction. He wouldn't give him...anyone nothin' they could ever use against him. After the third lash, Daryl stopped feeling and started becoming._

Was Beth able to stop feeling, to fight in her own way, or had she felt and suffered through every agonizing, brutal second of it? Beth was him now...just like him...they were the same, damaged and scarred. He couldn't stop it. Daryl drove his fist into the mirror. He didn't feel it...he'd wanted to...needed to...but he didn't. Through the fractured mirror, he could see Bob jump up from where he sat beside Beth, and Rick made to move towards him.

"Take care of Beth. I'm fine." Daryl was content to wait and bleed.

Daryl watched his blood drip down onto the dresser. Something caught his eye. He picked up the thin gold chain with a heart hanging from it, a small red stone at its center. It was so delicate, this bleeding heart, now slick with his blood, as fragile as the real thing. Nothing could've been more appropriate. He shoved it into his pocket.

"...but I think she might live..."

_What?_ He'd been so zoned out that he'd missed talking about Beth's prognosis. He swung around to face Rick and Bob.

"She's gonna live?" There was hope.

"Uh...well...from what you've told me, she seems to have made it through the worst. Her fever's broken. She needs to rest now, have some time to recover, let the meds start working again. We can't be on the move though. That would kill her and kill her quick."

"We're not going anywhere until Beth's better," Rick got the words out before he could.

"When's she gonna wake up?" If Bob thought she was gonna live, it seemed safe to hope...to ask that question.

"When she wants to. When she's ready. It's up to her now."

What if she didn't want to wake up? What if she liked where she was, away from the pain and fear? But she'd said she wished they could've stayed together in the funeral parlor. She didn't blame him for what happened. She thanked him for coming for her. And she said she loved him...no one had ever loved him. All those things she said...she wasn't just making her peace before she drifted away. He would let that be the end. They were going to fight together. For each other...for a future.

"We're probably going to need to limit who sees her. She's sick, so her immune system's weak. She's already been exposed to us. And whoever sees her, there can't be any stress. She needs her rest...so there won't be visitors all hours of the night," Bob looked specifically at Daryl. In the first part, Bob made perfect sense...the last part...

"I ain't goin' nowhere." Daryl felt Rick's arm across his chest, steadying him as he stepped forward.

"Daryl..." Rick warned him. "Daryl's gonna stay," Rick directed towards Bob.

Bob was smart enough not to object. He just nodded.

* * *

"Give me your clothes," Rick insisted once everything possible was done for Beth. "We'll find you something else to wear until we can get these clean."

Daryl didn't argue. He stripped off his coat, vest, and shirt, leaving him in just his wife-beater. It didn't have a spot of blood on it. Small miracles. It was just enough shirt to cover the scars on his back. Even if it had been stained, he wouldn't have taken it off. That was a part of himself that he wasn't about to bare if he didn't have to. Beth's condition was updated for everyone who waited outside the door, and Rick eventually let Maggie in. She was sitting beside her sister, wiping away the blood with a soft cloth and warm water. Daryl could hear her speaking softly to Beth...hear her soft sobs. Rick told her not to put any stress on Beth, but her quiet tears weren't hurtin' no one, so Daryl let it be. He was glad Maggie was feelin' something. Beth deserved that at the least.

His chair was facing the bed so he could see her...keep a careful eye on Beth. Bob sat down on the chair in front of him, but Daryl refused to look away from Beth.

"Let's get you cleaned up so when Beth wakes up, she doesn't see you like this." Bob grabbed the hand he'd slammed into the mirror.

"Don't matter. She knows what...who I am..." Daryl didn't fight though. He was drained, but hopeful. As happy and hopeful as he could be in this fucked up situation. Beth was going to make it.

"Do they hurt? Your hands," Bob questioned, picking the shards and slivers of glass out of his skin.

"No...not enough." Daryl didn't know if he needed to hurt to block out the emotional pain or if he thought he deserved the physical pain as a punishment. Didn't really matter. It wasn't there either way.

"Can you bend your fingers? Make a fist?"

Daryl had been in worse shape than this before...even before the turn, and he'd survived then.

"Nothing's broken. I'm fine."

Daryl felt the sting of alcohol dripping into his open wounds, Bob examining closely as he disinfected.

"These are jagged. They probably should be stitched, but I don't think I could pull enough skin together to sew. What happened?"

Daryl took his eyes off Beth, staring at Maggie until she felt him, looked at him, and they locked eyes. Her face was puffy and stained with tears. He needed Maggie to know. He'd lost Beth, but he'd been willing to go after her. He'd made it right in the only way he could, and Maggie was going to hear.

"Bones. Splintered ribs. I ripped his heart out." Daryl's voice was calm and even. He wasn't bragging...just telling the truth.

Bob didn't have anymore questions after that. He just finished cleaning out the old wounds and the new, wrapping his hands in soft white gauze before leaving. Daryl felt awkward being in the room with Beth while Maggie was there. He wanted to be by her side, sit with her, take her hand in his...but Maggie...he just needed her to leave. He stood at the foot of the bed just watching over the two sisters until Maggie came to him. He had no idea what to expect...what she wanted. She didn't invade his space, stayed a little more than arm's length away. Her eyes met his, and he didn't look away. This was his place, his Beth, and Maggie was just visiting.

"Thank you," Maggie offered.

"Didn't do it for you." Daryl was torn. When his mind had cleared, he'd remembered why he hated Maggie, why he was so angry at her before he left...because she'd done absolutely nothing to try to save her sister or even look for Beth. But that was over now.

Maggie watched him. She didn't know how to respond. But there was no reason for him to be cruel to Maggie. Beth didn't belong to her any more. Hadn't for a long while.

"You're welcome," he forced out. It wasn't convincing, but it was the best he could give her.

Maggie hugged him, and Daryl froze. It was unexpected and made him uncomfortable, but he let her hug him. She was family. Didn't mean he had to hug back though.


	13. Chapter 13: Place In This World

~Author's Note: Good morning guys. I wanted to start off by saying I am sorry this chapter is so late. I just had some real life stuff that took precedence this past week. (A note to anyone who also reads "I Will Follow You Into the Dark"-the update for that one may be late as well.) Anyway, I know all of you understand. Just to let you know, this chapter is different from the last 12. The chapters have been full of violence, anger, sadness, heartbreak, fear, pain...at least one of those heavy elements. At this point, I just needed something less heavy, and I think the characters need a break too. A chance to breathe...This by no means should be read as this story turning into one that is full of fluff and stuff, but there needed to be something else at this point. I hope you all enjoy. As always, thanks for reading. You guys are awesome.~

* * *

"Deputy Grimes was out at the shop today pickin' up his car..." Daryl told her, washing off the day's dirt in their ancient stained enamel sink. "He had his boy with him...Carl...well, he ain't a boy anymore. I don't even know if you'd recognize him."

Beth put what she was doing aside to focus on Daryl. She always tried to keep herself busy when he first walked through the door because he'd never touch her with greasy hands...but today she was more impatient than usual.

_Usual..._

"...and Judith, he showed me a picture. She's gettin' so big..."

Daryl wiped his clean hands dry on his pants. Beth smiled. His pants were almost as dirty as his hands had been, but it was Daryl. Old habits died hard. He kissed her softly...it felt so new...and awkward, but it wasn't, was it?

"I told him about you and me finally finding our place together. Said he was happy for us." It was so odd how he phrased it, _finally finding our place together_... "He told me he wanted us to come over some time. Don't know why he even talks to someone like me."

"Because you're a good person," Beth reassured him. He was always so down on himself. "Anybody who doesn't see that is either blind or just plain stupid."

He held her close, but the way he was looking at her was heartbreaking.

"Yeah...well, maybe you would've been better off if you were stupid or blind. Would've been much better off seeing that this is all I can give you."

Beth looked around. She knew what he saw...one rundown room that served for everything, kitchen, dining room, living room, their tiny bedroom and bathroom through the door to the back. Daryl saw failure. She saw possibilities. Beth wouldn't fight him on it because he wouldn't listen. She just wanted to stay happy.

"I see all I need standing right here in front of me." Her voice was happy. She had no reason not to be. Daryl looked at her, a sad smile on his lips...his expression saying that he wanted to believe her, but he was too afraid to believe it was the truth. "By the way, your Dad stopped by this morning. Wanted to bring us something to 'spruce' up the house, but he knew you wouldn't want to see him." Beth had to tell him...had to share. It was just too funny not to.

"You let him in?" Daryl went even more serious on her. She should've known better. There was something between him and his dad...something he'd never told her but she understood...wasn't there?

"Yeah...what else was I supposed to do?"

"Lots of things you could've done. Hide. Pretend you weren't home. Racked the shotgun. He would've gone away eventually..." He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Beth, there're things about my past, my life, that I don't want you to be a part of...to know."

"Anyway..." Beth wasn't going to let the mood go any more somber, "he brought us this." She presented the bright pink planter in the shape of a huge bra. Who'd go into a store and walk out with this?"

"My Dad, that's who. He'd set those up on top of the TV set, use them as target practice," there was the tiniest bit of amusement in Daryl's voice.

"He shot things inside your house?" It was a question Beth shouldn't have asked, but it came out before she could stop it. The idea that anyone would shoot a gun inside of their house for fun...it struck her.

"It was just a bunch of junk anyway..." Beth just wanted Daryl to forget about all the bad, but here she was just reminding him what life had been like. Not only had his Dad target practiced in his house, there had been nothing worth having to start with.

It was so strange...like deja vu. Daryl stopped speaking, but there was something that came after. Something else he needed to say...like the conversation had already happened...

_That's how I knew what this place was._ He didn't say it, but she knew that was what came next.

"He also wanted to know when you were going to get that still up and running." Beth couldn't even say why she told him that...it was so...irrelevant?

"That ain't never happening. We've had enough moonshine for a lifetime."

_We've?_ Beth couldn't remember drinking moonshine...ever. She tried to think, but her memories from before today were blurry and jumbled...like they were fighting each other.

_Ain't gonna have your first drink be no damned peach schnapps..._

_ What's that? _

_ Moonshine...That's a real first drink right there._

Beth shook her head.

"You alright?" He was worried now. Daryl always worried too much.

"Yeah...I'm fine." Beth was just trying to make sense of the images in her head.

"What would your Dad say about this?" Daryl's voice was verging on depressed as he looked around.

They were supposed to be happy...they were starting a new life together...but he was so self-conscious. Beth looked down at the pink bra planter she still held in her hands.

"He would say that we should hide it in the closet and only bring it out when your Dad came over for a visit to be tactful."

"That's not what I meant..." Beth knew that.

She set the planter aside and moved closer to Daryl, letting him hug her. She knew what he needed even if he didn't know it or want to say it, but he would hug her if she was there even if he thought he was doing it for her.

"He would've said it's not about where you are, it's the person you're with."

Daryl nodded, accepting what she'd said, just a hint of a smile on his lips, but she was sad now. She talked about her Daddy like he wasn't with them anymore...like he was dead. The sting of the loss was so fresh, but she couldn't remember...

_The Governor rolled right up to our gates. Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped looking. Maybe 'cause I gave up. That's on me._

_Daryl..._

_No...and your dad. Maybe...maybe I could have done something._

Daryl had cried. She'd hugged him through it. That had happened here...just outside...but it wasn't even real...was it? They'd made it...they'd survived...but survived what?

Banging and growling from outside startled her, pulling Beth out of her muddled thoughts. Daryl raised his hand, telling her to remain quiet. He approached the window, crossbow in hand. When did he get his crossbow?

"It's just one of 'em," Daryl reassured her. _One of 'em_ what?

"Should we get it?" At this point, Beth didn't even know what she was saying.

"If he keeps making too much noise, yeah."

Walkers. More of them came. Beth knew now, knew somehow that the most unbelievable part of her world was her reality.

They were both outside. All of the walkers were dead now. Beth and Daryl were both covered in blood. Beth turned and looked at Daryl at her side. She knew who he was...appreciated everything that made him the man that was standing beside her.

"You were made for this world..."

He looked at her, nodding his acceptance. He knew.

"We were made for this world," Daryl added. "We would've never happened without it, and we're going to make it together."

_Beth...please fight...fight for me..._Daryl said it, but it didn't come out of his mouth...not the Daryl beside her at least. It was distant, but somewhere more real than where she was now, trying to pull her back. She wanted to go.

Beth was a fighter...she had something...someone...and she was going to fight for her place in the world...

* * *

Maggie had seated herself at Beth's side again after she let him outta the hug. He'd been thinkin' about how to tell Maggie that she needed to go when he'd seen Michonne at the door. That bought Maggie a few more moments.

"I don't want to come in and take the chance of making her more sick, but we found you this." Michonne passed him a crisp folded shirt. "Your shirt...well, I'm sorry to tell you, it isn't going to make it." Daryl could hear the amusement in her voice.

"It's just a shirt." Daryl unfolded the new one he'd been given, looking down at it, then up at Michonne. "I take that back. I don't care what my shirt looks like. I want it back..."

Daryl looked at the shirt again...the western shirt...the shirt with a small floral pattern.

"You'll get over it." Michonne clearly had no sympathy, her smile evidence. "She's going to make it."

"Yeah...that's what Bob says," Daryl answered, still allowing himself to feel the hope.

"That wasn't a question. Beth's going to live because she's strong."

Someone like Michonne saying Beth was strong...someone like him knowing it...gave him hope for their world, hope for humanity.

"I know." There was no doubt in Daryl's mind about that. "You remember that shack and still we found before..." he couldn't say it...even now it was still too fresh to say _before we lost the prison_.

Michonne nodded. She knew.

"I took Beth there. Everything fell apart. I...she showed me what it was to be strong...that she was stronger than me. That's when it happened..." Shit, had he just said that? Well, not like they didn't know. Michonne was observant, and no one needed to be all that observant to realize at this point. She nodded again, the traces of a smile on her face. People like him and Michonne, the world didn't give them much to smile about, but people like Beth...they touched everyone. "That night...she said we should burn the shack. We did. After that, everything was new..." Daryl couldn't say why he was opening up...

Before he could continue spilling his guts, Rick and Bob showed back up on scene, sliding past him and Michonne into the bedroom. Bob placed a hand on Beth's brow then fingers at her wrist, and even though he knew no harm was being done to her, Daryl had to fight the urge to be on top of Bob.

"Maggie, it's about that time. We need to be letting Beth get some rest." Daryl's attention flipped to Rick and Maggie.

He stepped further into the room, putting down his clean clothes, waiting for Maggie to lose it. It was coming.

"I think I'm just going to stay with her tonight. Make sure she's okay...make sure she's not alone." Maggie's voice was calm, like she was told it needed to be for Beth's sake. She stroked Beth's hair like she was some sort of little pet or doll.

"Maggie, we talked about this," Rick's voice went from sympathetic to stern.

Daryl let him handle the situation. If he stepped in, had to make Maggie leave, there were like to be some choice words said.

"I'm not leaving." Maggie stood, planting her feet firmly on the ground. "What if she...dies..."

Daryl narrowed his eyes, taking a second to breathe before he said anything. After all this shit, every thing he'd done to get Beth back, all of Beth's suffering and fighting, Maggie had no right to mention death. It wasn't an option.

"Beth ain't gonna die." Daryl stepped close to Rick and Maggie to make sure he was heard. "And I ain't gonna let her be alone neither."

"See, even Daryl thinks I should stay." Maggie was living on a different planet.

Rick looked like he was contemplating his words carefully, trying to find the most tactful way possible to handle the situation, knowing Daryl wasn't leaving. The thing was, Rick might be their leader, making decisions for the group, but this wasn't a group matter, it was a family matter. At this point, Daryl would stand for his family.

"Maggie, you need to go. Now." He wasn't aggressive or angry. They hadn't hit that point yet, but it wasn't up for negotiation. "I'm staying."

"What..." Maggie looked from him to Rick, back to him again. "You're letting him stay," to Rick.

"I'm not letting him stay. I'm not letting him do anything. He let you stay. Now we're both telling you it's time to go."

"But...she's my sister...my Beth..." Maggie was losing her composure. Rick looked to him and nodded. Daryl nodded back.

"Maggie, we're going to take this conversation outside, for Beth's sake, but you're not going to win." Rick guided Maggie out of the room with a firm, unrelenting hand on her back, pulling the door behind.

Bob was moving to make his exit.

"No fever. Her pulse is strong. Her breathing is steady. Now it's just about waiting." Daryl should've said _thank you_, but he just nodded. Emotions were still too high. "If she wakes up or anything changes, come and find me."

Finally they were alone. Daryl put on his new shirt before sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. She looked so peaceful, but the bruises on her face told a different story. He closed his eyes, recalling the image of her before she was broken by the world. When Beth woke up, he was going to make sure that she got back to that place...that nothing ever hurt her again.

"Rick...she's our family. Maggie's her sister. Daryl's not..." He'd been ignoring the conversation outside the door, until now. And apparently, Glenn was in on it too.

"I wouldn't even finish that thought where Daryl might hear you," Rick cautioned, cutting Glenn off.

"But Rick, she's my sister...you can make him leave for me...if only one of us can stay..." Desperate Maggie was coming out again.

"I'm not going to make him leave. Even if I wanted to, and I don't, none of us could make him. All of us might be able to, but a lot of us would be coming away hurt, now more than ever. It's Daryl." Rick was so right he didn't even know. Daryl glanced to where his crossbow was leaning against the nightstand, just to make sure.

"If he's that dangerous...maybe we shouldn't leave him alone in there with Beth..." Daryl took it personally even though he knew he shouldn't. Maggie was just using the ammunition she had to try to get her way, but she didn't have the right.

Funny thing was, before he left to find Beth, Maggie hadn't even uttered her sister's name. But now that Beth was back, after he'd fought and killed and bled to save her, Maggie was her sister again, finally remembering that Beth existed in the first place. Now Maggie wanted to fight for her, to claim her, and she was gonna fight dirty. Problem was, Beth had already been claimed. He wasn't gonna make the mistake of not letting that be known.

"Daryl's not dangerous to Beth...he's dangerous because of her."

"Rick, be reasonable." Glenn was always pretty rational, this time he just didn't get it, or refused to see...not yet at least.

"You don't know what he's been through because of her..." Rick's voice was hushed, like he didn't want Daryl to hear, but he did. "You didn't see what he did..."

"Rick..."

"No Maggie." Now Rick was done. Rick had seen. He knew. "If Daryl didn't go after her, believe she was alive, fight for her, Beth would be dead. There would be no Beth for you to try to fight him over." That was Rick's final say.

Maggie sobbed. Sometimes the truth was hard, but it was still the truth. It probably hurt even more since Maggie made her own choices about Beth.

"Maggie, don't hate Daryl for this...he saved her...he's the reason she has a chance."

That should be more than consolation enough for Maggie. Her sister was alive, breathing, and she was going to stay that way...

* * *

Awake...clear...the air was cool and sweet. She could breathe deeper, and it didn't hurt so much. Eyes open. There were candles burning on the table beside her. Everything was quiet and still. The rain had stopped, the thunder and lightening were gone...and so was Daryl.

_Beth, I love you._

Beth was questioning everything about the past ten...no, eleven nights now...what was real and what were hallucinations and dreams, but she didn't question Daryl...what he'd said. _Beth, I love you_.

Beth heard movement. It sounded like a boot sliding across the floor...Daryl. Beth turned on the bed, quietly, just wanting to see him first. It hurt. Everything hurt, but it was worth it. They were getting their chance...more time.

She laid her cheek on the bed, looking at him, just watching him in his quiet moment. The candles were enough that she could see him so clearly, boots planted firmly on the floor, legs drawn up, crossbow resting on his knees. Beth could barely see his face though, his hair falling forward. Daryl was looking down, toying with one of the buttons of his shirt...well, it wasn't his shirt...there were flowers on it. Maybe it was still a dream. Maybe there was no chance for them. Daddy said that sometimes people and animals who were really sick got better, had a few moments of clarity and less pain, just before the end. No one really knew why; it just happened. It didn't matter. It was more time together...more than she thought she had. Beth was going to reach out and touch him, but she still felt too drained.

"Daryl..." it was the best she could do.

Daryl's bow clattered to the floor as he rolled up on his knees. The noise was jarring...it hurt her head...everything was so sensitive. She closed her eyes until the pain in her temples stopped, opening them to find Daryl looking at her...Daryl with her. It was still such an impossibility. He'd come for her...she knew why.

"Beth..." Her name was like a sigh of relief on his lips.

For a moment, just a moment, she thought Daryl was going to kiss her. She saw it in his eyes, the way his breath hesitated and he started leaning in towards her. The door opened. Daryl was on his feet, bow in hand, aimed. It was just Rick, his revolver in hand too. Daryl lowered his crossbow.

* * *

"Everything okay?" Rick's voice was hushed. "I heard a loud...something..."

Daryl approached him, wanting to remove Beth from whatever the conversation was going to be. His heart was pounding hard from Beth, the door being opened, being startled and too many emotions. Why was Rick there? Did he think Beth died...she turned and he couldn't...Just the thought made him sick. But that wasn't the case. Wasn't ever gonna be. Beth was awake. Time...he had more time.

"Yeah...just dropped my bow is all."

Rick nodded.

"Beth's awake." He couldn't say why he shared so soon. All he wanted was his time with her. He was just to excited to control himself, to not share. And it was Rick.

"She's awake? Is she coherent?" Rick's voice was laced with excitement.

"Don't know. She said my name, my crossbow fell..." _I was gonna kiss her_, "you opened the door..."

Rick went past him to Beth, standing over her.

"Beth, how are you feeling?"

"Alive." It was a beautiful answer. "Are you okay...Carl?" Her questions showed just how awake she was.

"We're fine...everyone's fine. You don't need to be worrying about us though. You just need to be focusing on you and getting better." Rick laid a hand on the top of her head before turning back to him.

Rick patted him on the shoulder, nodding his head before leaving, pulling the door behind him. Daryl felt awkward...self-conscious. Before Rick came in, he was going to kiss her, but what if she didn't want that. The kiss and her _I love you_ had happened when they both thought Death had come to collect. His was true, had been for a while...but what about her...what if...

Fuck it. Fuck being awkward. Fuck being self-conscious. He might not be able to make those feelings go away, but he didn't have to let them dictate his actions. He sure in the hell didn't have a problem showing everyone else how he felt about Beth. And he'd learned the devastating consequences of not telling Beth how it was in the first place. People like him...well, the world didn't give them chances to start with. Everything he'd had, he'd taken...fought for...bled for. He'd fought for a second chance. Beth was fighting for a second chance. Daryl wasn't gonna waste it.

"Will you sit with me?"

Daryl nodded, going to his knees beside the bed.

"No...sit with me...please..." She didn't need to beg him...never...not after everything.

Daryl moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside her, but Beth sat up, making room for him. Beth meant _with her_, not beside her. His boots thunked to the floor as he pulled them off. No shoes in bed. At least he knew that much...for her...not that it had ever mattered in his world. But how did this work...how did it go. In a moment where it could be the last, everything just happened without much thought. Now, it was...almost normal...but this had never been his normal. Daryl literally climbed into bed behind Beth so he would hurt her or jar her, sitting with his back to the headboard, a drawn up leg on each side of her. He was glad he was clean, that Bob had made him wash and Rick took his clothes...he just didn't know he was gonna be this close to her...so soon...ever...

"Come on back, Beth..."

Beth leaned back into him, against his chest. His hands...what in the hell was he supposed to do with his hands? Maybe he should...he wanted to put his arms around her, but what if he hurt her? Daryl took the chance, wrapping her in his embrace. She could say _no_ if she wanted...needed to. There was no tension in her body. Beth melted into him like they were meant to be together, like their bodies were made for each other. All the tension left Daryl too. Was this what it felt like...to be whole...complete? To live?

"You should sleep..." He didn't want her to, but she needed it...time to heal.

"I've slept too much." Beth's fingers picked at the edge of the clean gauze bandages on his hands. "You're hurt..."

"It's nothin'." It was less than nothing. He didn't feel it enough.

"What happened?" Her concern. How was it that she was the one who'd...suffered through everything yet she still had it in her to put others first?

"I punched some people," _at Terminus and Abe_..."Broke some things," _ribs, the mirror_..."Nothin's broken. I'm fine..."

And he wasn't lying. If they could stay like this forever, he would be more than fine. Beth brought his bandaged hands to her lips, kissing the top of his knuckles. He choked back an unexpected ball of emotion.

"Are you okay?" Of course she felt it. He couldn't hide from her if he wanted.

"Yeah...I...it's just..." Daryl just stopped trying to cover, trying to say anything.

What was he suppose to say...the truth? No one had ever kissed his hurts, even when he was little and had a mom. All the other kids were pretending when they said a kiss made everything better. He _knew_ it didn't. If they weren't pussies, if they were strong like he had to be, they would _know_ that too. But he'd been wrong...now he knew. It was awkward silence for a moment until Beth started talking. Her voice soothed him.

"You know, right after the prison, that first night, when I wanted you to track and you wouldn't even talk to me...when I left the fire, I took your knife because I knew you would come after it. I was trying to be brave, but I was scared...so afraid to be alone in the world."

Daryl was trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Was she still trying to work out why he came for her, because she knew...he'd made that very clear. She remembered that, didn't she? Her voice was calm and even...after everything. Was this what it was like to talk...normal conversation? He'd tasted this briefly before she was stolen from him...but now it still seemed impossible.

"I would've come after just you...didn't need no other reason," Daryl reassured her just in case. It was the truth. "I was pissed at the world, but I wasn't about to let you die..."

"I know you wouldn't have left me. I didn't know it then though..." She must've been so afraid...with just him, questioning if he would even protect her.

"I'll tell you what though, if you'd grabbed my crossbow, you wouldn't even have made it a step out of camp." Daryl tried to lighten the conversation. He was never much good at it though.

Beth laughed, followed by "ow", followed by another giggle.

"Sorry." It was only a half apology on his part. She was hurting, but she'd laughed...he couldn't ever remember hearing her laugh like that before this. She shook her head _no_, telling his apology wasn't necessary.

"When you start feelin' better, I'll take you out tracking again. We'll do some more shooting." Daryl thought about the first and last times she'd held his bow in her hands. The first time, outside the shack they'd burned. Well, she didn't exactly hold it then, but that had been part of her introduction into his ugly world...his past. The last time...the last time, she'd thrown him his bow while he was tryin' to hold the door, keep the walkers back...so she could escape...escape to what? Daryl shook his head to try to banish the images. That was over now, and he had the chance to make it right, as right as possible. And he felt secure enough...hopeful enough...to think about that kind of future.

"Beth, I never said I was sorry...for what I did...what happened after we had the moonshine..." It seemed like a lifetime ago, but his thoughts had brought him back to that point.

"We're past that Daryl. I knew...we were both hurting. And I, I never judged you...never thought bad of you...what I said, it was all just a stupid game." She didn't need to apologize, but maybe they both needed the chance to say some things they felt like they needed to say.

"No...it wasn't you. Like I told you, I'm a dick when I'm drunk..."

"You know, if we didn't burn it...we could've stayed there. I would've stayed there and been happy with you." Beth's words surprised him

"No, Beth. That was no place for you. Like you said, if we can't let go of places like that, they kill us, in here..."

Daryl placed his hand in the center of Beth's chest over her heart. He forgot she was little...he wasn't used to her body...his fingers resting over the lace bra covering her small breast. He didn't mean to violate her...nothing like that had even remotely crossed his mind. Before he could take his hand away, both of hers covered his, pressing it tighter over her heart. It was beating much harder now. His was too.

"Maybe I was wrong...I was wrong. We have to put the past behind us...all the bad things...or that's what kills us. But a place is just a place." Beth took in a deep breath, exhaling like she was breathing for the first time. "I know where my place in this world is...beside you. Wherever you are is where I want to be."

If it was possible for him to be broken by something good and beautiful in his life, this was it. With his free hand, Daryl brushed Beth's silky, pale hair aside, his lips finding the soft spot where her neck and shoulder met. He felt her skin quiver before he pulled his lips away and rested his head at her shoulder.

Daryl knew in that moment, that when the end came, he wasn't gonna have lost more than he won...


	14. Chapter 14: Apologize

Beth was awake when Maggie came through the door. It was the first time she had seen Maggie since the day Daddy died, and she should be excited...but everything was somehow different... Daryl wasn't with her anymore. She didn't remember him leaving; she must have fallen asleep, but she knew wherever he was, he wasn't far away. If he had tracked her, found her, fought for her, he would always be near...always find her, no matter where she was. Beth rubbed the raw spots on her wrists where the handcuffs had worn the skin away. They didn't hurt as much as everything else, more of just an annoyance, but they were the only wounds she could see. And she needed a distraction. It was Maggie, but she felt awkward. Everyone was alive, she knew that now, but she had only seen Daryl, Rick, Carl, and Bob...Bob who'd come to check on her in the middle of the night while she was still awake with Daryl. His reaction had been unexpected...he was joyful, and he barely knew her, had only been at the prison a few weeks before everything fell apart. Maggie looked excited to see her awake too...Beth just wished she could share the same feeling, but something was off. It was probably just her. Maybe she was just too broken for anyone besides Daryl.

"Where's Daryl?" Beth wasn't afraid that he was gone, but she still wanted to know where he was.

That probably wasn't the first thing she should have said to her sister, but it didn't really matter.

"He's with Rick. Daryl's been by your side since you got back, wouldn't budge an inch, but Rick needed him." It was like Maggie was justifying why Daryl was gone, assuring her that he did just abandon her, but she didn't need to do that. There was no way Beth would ever doubt him. "Can I sit with you?"

It was an odd question for a sister to ask. Maggie...was something weighing on her? Beth nodded, sitting up against the pillows, trying not to wince. Maggie, sitting beside her, took her tussled hair, gently brushing it with a soft bristled brush.

"You never wear your hair down...but it's so pretty. You've always been so pretty, so gentle, so filled with light..." Maggie was emotional.

Beth grabbed a section of her own hair, feeling it, examining it. Maybe it was the only thing pretty and light left about her. She hadn't seen a mirror in, well, longer than she could remember, but she couldn't imagine with the way she felt that she would ever be pretty again.

"Beth, what happened out there before you were...between you and Daryl?"

That brought a sad smile to Beth's face.

"Everything." She knew Maggie was looking for more than that, but Beth wasn't willing to share. It was her happiness, her memories, the joy that she had to hold onto...the things that kept her fighting for the possibility of that future.

"Everything?"

Okay, so clearly not everything...barely anything before...and now Maggie thought that she and Daryl...she could hear it in Maggie's voice. But it didn't matter what she thought. Beth wished they had...hoped maybe they would. He said he loved her. It was Daryl. That wasn't something he would just say as a passing fancy. She knew it was the truth. Maggie reached out and touched her cheek. It was still bruised. Beth knew because she felt the ache when Maggie's fingertips came in contact with it.

"What did they do to you Beth?" Maggie was shaky.

Beth had to close her eyes tight and take a big breath to quell the nausea in her stomach. The images...the memories...they were too much...still too fresh.

"I'm sorry...this is all my fault."

Beth opened her eyes, shaking her head _no_. Another person in her life was feeling guilty about what happened to her when there was absolutely nothing she could have done.

"No...it's not you're fault..."

"Yes Beth, it is...you don't understand," Maggie was never one to be dramatic...emotional yes, not dramatic, but her voice was frantic and broken. Beth was waiting, listening. "I...after...I'm your sister. I'm supposed to protect you. I didn't think you made it. I didn't even look...didn't even try, even after I found Glenn."

Maggie wouldn't look at her. She was crying.

"I let myself be happy with finding Glenn...let myself forget about you..."

It made her heart ache that Maggie forgot her, but she understood. Maggie had no reason to believe that she made it out of the prison alive with Daryl of all people. And Beth was far from innocent of allowing herself to forget...allowing herself to be happy. That is what she did with Daryl. Beth reached out, hugging Maggie. She was her sister, and if these were the worst of her sins, there was nothing to forgive.

"I love you Maggie." Then she realized Maggie's confession wasn't over. What more could there be?

Maggie pulled away, and Beth realized the worst was still to come.

"At Terminus...the place where we were all reunited when we were captured...I found out that you and Daryl ran together, you were together a long time, and it had only been recently that you were separated."

Beth nodded, listening intently.

"Daryl, he had a clue, a sign he remembered about the people who took you, and he believed that you were still alive." Maggie's breath shuddered before she pulled herself together to continue. "After we got away...it was so close...we got safe here. Abe wanted to push on to Washington D.C., and Glenn and I were in favor of going. After everything, I couldn't let myself believe you were alive only to lose you again, despite what Daryl believed. We knew Daryl was planning to go after you, but we...Glenn, Abe, Carol...I...tried to convince him not to leave...to let you go..."

It was a knife to the heart, and Beth felt like her world had just shattered into a million pieces, but she wouldn't cry.

"Rick...Rick was the only one who supported Daryl, why, I don't know, but I'm glad he did. They brought you back to me."

That was wrong though. On the night that Daryl rescued her, she'd had the feeling that even if she survived to make it back to their group, she would never really make it back. Beth didn't understand a lot of who and what Maggie was talking about...Terminus, Abe, Washington D.C...but she got what was important out of it. Even after Maggie found out she had lived past the prison and Daryl believed she was alive and was willing to track her, Maggie not only chose to forget her, she tried to get Daryl to forget...other people tried to stop him too...except Rick. She was dead to Maggie and everyone else, just a ghost in their world.

"I'm so sorry Beth, but now you're back...you came back to me." Beth didn't know what to say. "And you're lucky...you're lucky you weren't with us at Terminus. It was horrible. They were...eating...people. It was so close...they almost killed Glenn. You wouldn't have made it Beth...you're too gentle, too sweet to have gone through that."

Beth put her head down. She couldn't look at Maggie...not now. She wasn't weak, not like Maggie thought. She wasn't a person who felt sorry for herself or thought about herself before others...but this, this was different. Beth had no doubt that whatever they went through at the place called Terminus was horrible. She saw how badly beaten Rick, Glenn, and Daryl were...but those wounds were from fighting. And cannibals...people who ate other people, especially in their world, just the thought made her sick, and that fear sitting with all of them must have been unbearable, but they had all been together. They were strong, united, and if any group had a chance at survival, it was them. Maggie's words, they really drove the truth of the matter home. _It was so close_..._they almost killed Glenn_..._close_..._almost_... Beth had been alone and afraid. She was beaten, drugged, feared the wrath of Brother Allerton, fearing the moment when he grew tired of her refusals and decided to take what he wanted and she wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop him...waiting to die. There was nothing _close_ or _almost_ about what she went through. If Maggie had had her way, she would've died there.

"But everything's okay now. You're back. Everything can go back to how it was. You just have to forgive me."

Beth was strong. She was a fighter. She was strong enough to say the words.

"I forgive you." She just wasn't strong enough for them to matter.

* * *

"So the plan is, since we're hunkering down here for a while until Beth gets better, we're going to need to send out some groups to scavenge and keep some people here to help secure the place."

Daryl leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, listening to Rick lay out the game plan. He was anxious to get back to Beth, but he understood why Rick wanted him there. He was still a decision maker in their group supporting Rick, and this was for him and Beth. Daryl was waiting for someone to dare to speak out against staying in place or making runs because of Beth, but no one made a peep. Maybe that was why Rick wanted him there too. Rick clearly cared about Beth, but most of the others didn't give a shit. But what had happened between him and Abraham before he left for Beth...that sent a pretty strong message.

"Those of us who go out, we're going to stay close, see what we can find and use around here before we pan out any further." Daryl understood that Rick didn't want to go further than they had to, but he wasn't sure what they were gonna find close. A small subdivision with woods to the back...it was really gonna be hit or miss.

"I'm going to lead one of the groups," Rick asserted, "but since Daryl's out of commission..."

"Out of commission? How hurt are you?" Carol cut Rick off, looking directly at Daryl.

Daryl felt his eyes narrow at her. He had a few busted knuckles wrapped in pretty white bandages, and she was all concerned. But she hadn't cared about Beth or tryin' to find her...just tryin' to keep him for leaving to go after Beth.

"I ain't hurt, just outta commission," he snapped. "I just ain't goin'. I ain't leaving Beth."

"I'm going to lead one of the groups," Rick reiterated, "but since Daryl is staying, I'm going to let him pick his people to stay behind with him, then we'll figure out who else is going to lead and who's going in each group."

Daryl looked around the room knowing he had an easy decision. There was no way he was gonna pick anyone who tried to keep him from going after Beth. They could go and never come back...good riddance to them. Scanning the room, Daryl noticed someone was missing...Maggie..._damn it_...he knew she was with Beth, but there was nothing to be done about it at the moment. If she was upsetting her though...

"Daryl..." he snapped back to the task of the moment at Rick's prompt.

"I'll take Michonne and Ty. I'd like to have Carl too if that's okay with you. He had my back out there, and I'd like him to have it here." Rick nodded his okay. Daryl didn't pick Carl because he was a kid he was trying to protect but because he trusted Carl more than a lot of the people standing in the room, and the kid had balls. Carl looked surprised, but he nodded too. "And Bob. That's a given. He ain't going nowhere away from Beth."

"Okay then. Michonne, Tyreese, Bob, and Carl are with Daryl. Eugene will stay behind too..."

"If Eugene's staying behind, I'm staying..." Red stepped forward, standing his ground. Daryl just waited. This could be amusing. "I don't trust leaving him behind with Daryl. He's really not all that stable.

"Yeah...that's not going to happen. I promise you, Eugene's the last thing on Daryl's mind. And after what happened between the two of you, there's no way I'm leaving you alone together," Rick was firm on his decision.

Abe's eyes came to rest on Daryl...black eyes from his broken nose...Daryl's doing.

"We still need to settle that, son." Abraham was riled up. Daryl could hear it in his voice, see it in his stance. "Do you want to talk about that now or later?"

"Do you wanna die now or later?" The fact that Daryl was calm and collected made his reply worse, Rosita putting a hand on Abraham's chest to steady him.

Michonne's "hmmph" accompanied by a small laugh from beside him didn't help the situation, but Daryl's attention was drawn by Maggie joining Glenn. She looked like she'd been crying.

_Shit...Beth..._

Daryl looked to Rick who nodded for him to leave.

* * *

Beth had been despondent when he got back to her. No tears...but he knew.

"What did she say to you?"

"She apologized..."

"For what?"

"The truth..."

Daryl didn't know exactly how much truth Maggie told her or even exactly what the truth was, but it was enough to throw Beth into a dark and desperate place. He sure in the hell was gonna find out. When he found Maggie and Glenn, he promised himself he was going to keep his cool...it was the best way for him to find out what he needed to know.

"Maggie, we need to talk about Beth." It was hard, but his words came out civil.

Maggie looked to Glenn, nodding, kissing him, then coming to the room across the hall, no complaint. Daryl closed the door. It wasn't anyone's business but theirs. Maggie's face was once again puffy from tears, but who did she think she was? She had no right at all to be crying. She lost that right not just by giving up on Beth, but when she forgot she even had a sister.

"What did you say to Beth?"

Maggie's breath caught in her throat like she didn't expect him to ask that, and she didn't have an answer thought out. What in the hell did she think he was gonna ask her?

"I...I asked her what happened to her...I knew it was wrong...but...she wouldn't tell me anything anyway."

Daryl sighed, shaking his head. She shouldn't have asked, but it wasn't a crime. He couldn't hate her for that question...but what it did to Beth...Maggie should've known better. But that wasn't it. That wasn't what Beth said. Beth said Maggie apologized.

"What else Maggie?" His voice was sharper now.

"I apologized to her...I had to."

"What did you say to her?" _I apologized_ wasn't going to cut it.

"I told her I was sorry...for...not looking for her after the prison...even after I found Glenn. I told her I thought she was dead...even when you thought she was alive...told me you knew she was alive. I just couldn't believe because having hope again just to have you fail and lose her again was too much..." It all came pouring out now.

"Damn it, Maggie..."

"Don't worry, Daryl, I told her the truth, that you were the only one who believed...were willing to risk everything. I told her that most of the rest of us, all except Rick, didn't want you to go...tried to talk you out of leaving to find her. She knows about you. When I went to see her, my sister, the first time she's been conscious since...well, the first words out of her mouth were 'Where's Daryl?', so you're good." Maggie's voice had gone from sadly urgent to bitter, but she had no right to be. Deep down, she had to know that.

Daryl forced himself to breathe, fight his rage, hold back all the anger balling inside. This apology...Maggie didn't do it for Beth; she did it for herself.

"It was hard, but I had to tell her the truth. It was killing me..."

"And now it's fucking killing her." Daryl lost it.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the reason she apologized, but the fact that she actually said it, proving what he knew...it showed just how self-centered Maggie was being.

"What?" Did she really not comprehend?

"Yeah, you're feeling all better now, unburdening your soul...all you're sins. But who's left to deal with them now? Your little sister...that girl laying beaten, broken, and sick up there in that bed, that's who. And now, not only does she have to fight all her own pains and demons, she knows that no one gave a shit about her or what she was going through. She had to fight, by herself, every day to stay alive, and for what? People who weren't willing to fight for her. Her sister who wouldn't even shed a tear. Her group...her family who would rather forget she ever existed so they didn't have to deal with the loss and pain. Well, guess what? Your pain's real now because you can't ignore Beth. And you have to live with it, live with what you did...what you didn't do...unless she dies, and I ain't gonna let that happen..." Daryl stopped.

He had so much more he needed to say, but it would get out of hand. He'd said enough...enough on Beth's behalf. And he wasn't gonna waste any more fight on Maggie. It took too much energy...energy he should be devoting to Beth. Maggie wasn't worth his time.

"If I didn't tell her, you would've. It was better she heard it from me. You hate me..." Maggie shifted from victim mode to fight mode, but he was done.

"Maggie, this ain't a game...it's Beth life. You shouldn't have told her. I would've never told her, no matter the reason. Think whatever you want, but you shouldn't have told her even if it was to clear your conscience. If you told her to beat me to it, you were fucking dead wrong. Now Beth has to deal with it, and that's on you."

Daryl was turning away from Maggie, ready to leave but he stopped. He wasn't trying to hurt Maggie, just in this time and place...he needed to make sure she knew...knew who he was, who her sister was.

"You remember back when Merle kidnapped you and Glenn, took you to the Governor?" Daryl didn't pause for an answer. He didn't want one. The only thing he needed was to see her face. "We came after you...I was part of that group. You weren't my blood, but you and Glenn, you're my family. Did you know, when we first found out you and Glenn were taken, tryin' to figure out what to do, Beth was the first one to stand up, the first one...and she told us all 'I'll go'? She would've never let us forget about you."

Maggie trying to be a hard ass wasn't really convincing with all the tears. He wondered who she was crying for.

It was enough. He needed to go back to Beth.

"So, what, you just get to walk away the hero?"

"I ain't tryin' to be a hero. This ain't a fairytale. I'm just tryin' to live. Tryin' to give Beth a chance to live. You're just happy to survive. Living's too hard for you...living means you might lose something."

"Why are you doing this?" Maggie's voice was weak. She was weak. Everyone always thought Maggie was the stronger sister, but they were wrong.

She'd asked him that question before.

_Why are you doing this? _

_ She might mean nothin' to you, but to me, Beth's everything...she's all I got._

It was still the same, the answer, except this time he would've just said _Because I love her._ The thing was, Maggie didn't deserve to hear that. Looking back over his shoulder, Daryl wasn't even sure what he saw, what Maggie had become in his eyes.

"If you don't know the answer to that, you're lost..."

* * *

"Will you open the curtains...I think the sun is shining..."

Beth had been sitting up in bed like she was waiting for him to come back through that door. The sun...the sun would be good for her. After he pulled back the curtains, Daryl sat on the bed beside her, not waiting for an invitation. He didn't need one anymore. What he didn't know was how to talk to her...what he should say. He'd never been good at talking until Beth...but now the words she probably needed to hear didn't come. He was self-conscious, didn't know what to do. She was just looking at him, not really waiting for anything, but he still wished he had something to offer her. Beth's hair was down, combed, falling in soft waves over her shoulders. He didn't realize what he was doing until he had a section of her hair in his hands, the silky strands spilling through his fingers. He shouldn't have done that...didn't even know what drove him to it, but Beth's eyes lit up at just the small bit of attention he was giving her.

"It's enough..." Beth was sad, but he saw something in her eyes...something for him.

"What's enough?"

"You came for me. You believed."

"It wasn't...I was too late..."

"No...we're here together. That's everything. You're everything." Her voice was steady. He wanted to believe her. Deep down he did.

Maybe when she was better he should take her away, find somewhere in the woods, a place where they could be safe, live life, stop running, stop fighting for everything except themselves...

Daryl remembered something, digging in his pocket for the chain and pendant he'd stashed there.

"I've got something for you...I thought...you always had some sort of jewelry, and you don't have nothin' anymore, so I thought you might like it." He held it out to her, the gold contrasting against the white of the gauze wrapping his hand.

Beth picked up the pendant, the heart, holding it between her fingers, examining it and smiling. That's when Daryl noticed there was dried blood on the pendant and in the fragile links of the chain. He felt shitty. He hadn't even thought to clean it...hadn't had the time. But what was he supposed to do now? He couldn't take it back. Either she didn't notice it or she was just to graceful to say anything about it. Beth swept her hair to the side, holding it back, looking at him, waiting. Oh...she wanted him to put it on her...that was how things went, wasn't it? The clasp was so tiny, so delicate in his calloused hands. His fingers weren't made to work this way, fumbling like an idiot. Was this some sort of skill that was passed down from father to son, how to put jewelry on a girl, 'cause it sure in the hell wasn't something his old man would've ever taught him. After three tries, he finally got the damned necklace secured around Beth's slender neck. Her fingers pressed it against her chest as she looked down at it, smiling. And he didn't feel so shitty about the blood on it. It was his blood. He'd bled for her. Nobody else had.

"Thank you..." Beth's voice was soft but no longer sad. Daryl nodded. Her hand came to rest over his heart beating steady in his chest. "But I like this one better..."

"It's yours..."


End file.
